Keeping The Stars Apart
by Merrick Mayfair
Summary: When Odin exacts a terrible price for Loki's behaviour in New York, Thor is forced to step in. But where can the most wanted man in the Nine Realms hide, and is there anyone still prepared to redeem him...
1. Chapter 1

_Apologies to everyone that got an update to this story tonight. I stupidly deleted the first chapter of this story out of the Manage Stories section as opposed to Doc Manager._

 _I have no excuse. I am an idiot and I throw myself on your mercy. MM x_

* * *

Prologue

The tavern where he was meeting Dalan was not the sort of place that you would expect to find a Prince of Asgard. Accordingly, Thor had abandoned his scarlet finery in favour of a stout leather jerkin, and a dark cloak. Pulling the hood over his bright hair, concealing his face, he stuck to the shadows as closely as he could.

Dalan – up until the previous day, a guard in the royal household for as far back as Thor could remember, was seated in a quiet corner, nursing a large tankard of the landlord's finest; his bright red hair, always a novelty in Asgard, was, like Thor's concealed under his hood. His face was tense and anxious.

Flagging down a serving man for a drink, Thor dropped into the seat opposite him.

"Dalan."

"My Lord?"

"Thank you for meeting with me old friend." There was a pause while the servant brought Thor's ale. He took a cautious sip – it was better than he had expected.

Reading his expression, Dalan smiled. "D'you think I would meet you anywhere that didn't serve good ale my lord. I know you better than that"

Thor smiled briefly, but the tension in his face did not dissipate. He gazed into his tankard, as if hoping to find the answers he sought in its depths.

"I understand that you were one of the men that escorted my brother to his punishment."

Dalan's face was grave. "Indeed I was m'lord. Forgive me if I presume, but that was a bad business." He looked around nervously. "No doubt your Lord Father will do what he must, but I could never serve no lad of mine like that. I can understand execution – if what he's done warrants it – at least that's quick and clean. But what we took that poor lad to... Turns your guts to water it does. And those bastards that took him – what he was goin' to was bad enough – there ain't no call for how they treated 'im."

If possible, Thor's brow drew down even further. A large brawny hand reached out and grabbed Dalan's arm. "And how did they treat him Dalan?"

Dalan's eyes were bleak. "Beggin' your pardon my lord, but how do you think they treated him. A royal prince, and a mage, stripped of his power and authority, in chains and helpless. And never like to see anyone to complain to... He was always good to me your brother, but he was difficult to know, and a lot was suspicious of 'im on account of 'is being different an' his magic n'all. I tried to help 'im as much as I could my lord, but there was five 'a them and only one 'a me an' I got a wife and three littl'uns to care for. What 'appens to them if I gets a knife in my back one dark night?"

Thor nodded, he hated it, but he understood. "Dalan."

"Yes my lord."

"Where did you take him?" Dalan's weathered face was a study in shock

"You mean you don't know my lord?"

Thor shook his head. "Father sent me straight to Alfheim when we got home. By the time I came back he was gone."

Dalan's face had gone from shocked to terrified. He trusted Thor, but he was about to give him the worst news possible. "Sorry I am to tell you my lord – we took him to Her. To the Cave."

Thor was out of his seat, reaching for Dalan, his face dark with rage. "You lie damn you. Father would never..." he dropped back into his seat, his head in his hands – knowing that he would. When he looked up his face was grey with shock. Now he understood why Dalan had felt unable to continue working at the palace. Gods, the place was five days journey on horseback. His little brother had been there nearly a week!

When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. "You need to tell me how to get there Dalan. Please."

Dalan looked up at him bleakly. I'd be happy to m'lord." Tears filled his eyes. "When we got to the cave, just as they were draggin' him in, he stopped and looked back. He were feelin' the sun on 'is face for the last time. I'll remember that look for as long as I live, if I'm blessed with your Lord Father's years." He scrubbed at his face "he was hardly more'n a boy, and he were so afraid. Bless 'im he tried not to show it, but you could see in his eyes."

Leaving the tavern, they paused for a moment, Dalan giving Thor the direction that he needed. He put his hand tentatively on the Prince's arm. "Get to him my lord, even if it's only to..." he was lost for words for a moment.

Thor put his hand over Dalan's, before tucking a generous size pouch into other man's tunic pocket.

"Get yourself and your family away Dalan. And thank you my friend."

He needed to pick up some things from the palace. He must be on his way within the hour..."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note. This is my second story (I've written nothing forever) and my first multi chapter story. THIS STORY IS ALREADY COMPLETE I'm just tweaking with the final chapters. I don't know where the Loki / Hermione pairing came from as I've honestly never read this pairing in my life. It just came into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. This was supposed to be a maximum of 6 chapters - it took on a life of its own..._

 _Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Harry Potter or the Thor universes - If I did, Hermione would never have ended up married to Ron, who is only mentioned in passing in this story_

 _Thanks to Ms Kitty Black, who has Beta'd this story for me, and helped to keep my inner Loki fan-girl firmly under control._

* * *

When Hermione Granger was only eighteen, she had fought one of the greatest threats that the wizarding world had ever faced, and survived the experience - battered, bloodied and scarred by a madwoman, but alive. Had anyone asked her, at that moment, she would have said that she had everything that she would ever need. She had finally sorted things out with Ron Weasley, and had been assured that she would be able to return to Hogwarts to complete her education.

Finding out that Ron would not be returning to school with her had been a shock, but she had understood that, in the aftermath of the battle, he felt that he needed to be with his family, so she and Harry Potter, the heroes of the wizarding world, had returned to school together.

A year later, she and Harry had both left Hogwarts, destined to join the Ministry for Magic, Hermione in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Harry on the Auror training programme. Both of them had initially made good progress, but after five years, Hermione had come to realise that she had no stomach for a lifetime spent in the political backbiting and machinations of wizarding politics.

The demands of her career at the ministry had already cost her relationship with Ron. It had been no-one's fault really, they just wanted different things. Hermione had wanted a career that stimulated her mentally, and gave her an opportunity to make a difference. If that meant working extra hours, and weekends when necessary, she had considered that a worthwhile investment in her future. Ron, on the other hand had been quite happy for Hermione to have a job, but assumed blissfully that this was just something she needed to get out of her system for a year or two, after which she would give up working, marry him and give him the large family he craved. Now a full partner in the Weasley's Wizards Wheezes stores, he was a man of financial stability, easily able to support a wife - there was no need for Hermione to work.

Realistically, they had always been better off as friends anyway.

Harry had done very well, rising swiftly in the ranks of the Aurors. But it was a difficult and dangerous profession, and he had been seriously injured on a number of occasions. After a particularly serious incident, when an illegal potions lab had exploded, resulting in Harry spending eight weeks in St Mungo's Hospital, Harry had decided, like Hermione two years before, that he might need to seriously re-think his future. With both Potter and Black family money behind him, he had packed up a rucksack and gone off around the world for an indefinite holiday. He remained in touch with Hermione, and the last time she heard from him, he was living with an Australian girl, within a stone's throw of the beach.

Ron Weasley was now married to Lavender Brown, with red haired twin boys, and another baby on the way.

Five years after her graduation, disheartened, frustrated and tired, Hermione had been forced to admit that maybe the secret to changing the world lay outside the ministry.

Back at Hogwarts – changing the world one student at a time.

Returning had been like stepping into a comfortable pair of slippers – although she had never dreamed that the shoes she would be filling would be those of Professors Slughorn and Snape. Professor Slughorn had never really recovered from the Battle of Hogwarts, and had limped on for a few more years before retiring once more. A number of temporary replacements had filled his role, but never stayed – so when Hermione approached Professor McGonagall about the possibility of a job, there had been no question. She had boarded the Hogwarts Express that September, trunk levitated in front of her, as Professor Granger, Potions Mistress.

It must be something about the warm summer evenings thought Hermione, one sleepy Sunday, a week from the end of her fourth summer term. A feeling of restlessness was creeping into her bones. It wasn't that she didn't love her job – it was everything she had ever hoped for, and she had never regretted leaving the ministry – but she was only 28, still a young woman, and sometimes she just felt – well – fossilised. She was the second youngest teacher at Hogwarts – the youngest being Professor Draco Malfoy, who had joined the staff as the Charms Professor a year after Hermione's arrival. The two former enemies were now firm friends, often spending time together, setting the world to rights. Any possibility of anything more than friendship though, was firmly scuppered when it became apparent that Draco's affections were firmly ensconced elsewhere – and that Charlie Weasley's fascination with dragons didn't end with those of the large green and scaly variety.

Within her rooms in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione gazed thoughtfully at her reflection in the mirror. Her last serious relationship – with Neville Longbottom, had petered out two years ago when she finally admitted that, while he was a lovely man, and would doubtless make some lucky girl a fantastic husband – it wasn't going to be her.

Both Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom had both been wonderful men, but, Hermione thought, they were somehow – well – safe. Neither of them were stupid, by any stretch of the imagination, but Hermione had never lost her academic brilliance or her passionate love of learning, and still hoped that one day she might meet a man that would be her academic as well as romantic match.

Was it too much to ask, Hermione thought, that somewhere out there, there might be someone who – as one of her older seventh year girls had said recently - could get both her brain and her knickers in a knot.

Sighing, Hermione turned away from the contemplation of her reflection, and went down to the Great Hall for supper.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mistress Hermione"

"Mistress Hermione must wake up…"

"Mistress Hermione – Professor McGonagall has urgent need of you". Kreacher's insistent, gravelly tones woke Hermione in the darkest hours of the night. Crawling out from under the blankets, Hermione looked at the elderly house elf blearily.

"Kreacher – what is it?"

"Mistress Hermione must get up. The Headmistress needs you urgently. You must come now" Kreacher's tone was sufficiently urgent to propel Hermione upright, pushing the tangle of hair that had escaped from its customary plait, out of her face.

"What's the matter Kreacher? Is the Professor sick?"

Kreacher's lined face was grave, but not afraid. "No Mistress, the Professor is well. But it appears that she has received a message of a very serious nature."

By now Hermione was out of bed, and pulling jeans and a sweatshirt over her sleep shorts and tee shirt. Pushing her feet into a pair of purple converse that just happened to be in the right place at the right time, she held out her hand to the House Elf. "Kreacher – would you mind?"

 _x-x-0-x-x_

She would never get used to the way that House Elves travelled thought Hermione, as she tried to regain her bearings. That feeling of being sucked through a kaleidoscope and exploding out the other end was even worse than apparition. But it was quick, and allowed within the grounds of Hogwarts Castle, which apparition was not. Arriving outside the Head's study, Hermione was surprised to hear voices. The first, sharp, elderly and Scottish, was dearly familiar. The other, deep, young and decidedly male was not. Knocking on the door, Hermione entered.

And stopped.

Whatever she had expected, it was not the muscular blonde giant that seemed to fill a significant portion of the large room. Tossed over one broad shoulder was a shapeless bundle, wrapped in a scarlet cloak. The other huge hand appeared to be clutching what looked like a large, ornate, hammer. As he turned towards her, startled, she got the impression of an open attractive friendly face – albeit very anxious at the moment – and the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

Was he wearing ARMOUR? Confused, Hermione turned to the more familiar figure of Professor McGonagall, dressed in a green plaid dressing gown and nightcap.

"Ah, Professor Granger, please come in. Allow me to introduce Thor of Asgard, a very old friend of the school".

"Thor – Asgard?" Hermione knew her Norse mythology – but this brawny young man seemed little older than she was – an old friend of the school? Was this a joke?

The young man bowed slightly, smiling at her confusion. "I am a somewhat older than I appear Professor. Although may I say that you appear very young to be in so responsible a role. I am afraid that I need to implore a favour of you – of a most delicate nature".

The Headmistress – seeing Hermione's bewildered face, explained further. "Thor – or Prince Thor as I should call him, is of the Asgardian Royal Family, who's association with the school dates back to the Founders. He has brought a seriously injured man to us, in need of our help. But I must impress upon you Hermione, the need for the strictest of secrecy."

Looking once again, it became apparent that the bundle thrown somewhat unceremoniously over Thor's shoulder, was in fact the injured man in question. Little was visible under the cloak that covered him.

"Shouldn't this be a matter for Madam Pomfrey?" she queried.

The Headmistress shook her head. "Poppy Pomfrey is the most capable of women, but this man cannot spend time in the infirmary, and his care would require her to be away for far too long. The fewer that know of this the better . Can you help him Hermione? Your knowledge of potions is second to none, and it is unlikely that healing spells and charms will work on an Asgardian."

At this, Thor coughed delicately "Actually ladies, he isn't Asgardian at all. He is Jotun – a Frost Giant."

 _x-x-0-x-x_

How they had ended up bringing this injured – Frost Giant? thought Hermione – up to her chambers she had no idea. It was either that or the Room of Requirement she supposed – and she had never been able to bring herself to go near that room since the Battle of Hogwarts, without hearing the roar of the flames, or the scream as Vincent Crabbe had vanished into the fiendfyre. Dragging her mind from that grim image, she watched, as with surprising gentleness, Thor set down his burden, face down on her bed and stepped away.

Hermione approached the bed, peeling back the scarlet cover gingerly…

The young man beneath must have been nearly as tall as Thor, but there the similarity ended. He was lightly built, black haired, and pale skinned. Broad shoulders and lean muscled arms spoke of a man used to wielding a sword, but it was clear that life had not been kind to him recently.

The first injury to reveal itself was his wrists. Clearly he had been bound, and brutally tight. The skin around each thin wrist was flayed raw – a testament to his desperate struggles to escape his fate. Drawing the cloak down further though, Hermione drew in her breath in horror. It was as though someone had taken a flask of acid and poured it over his back. Long deep angry welts, blackening at the edges carved great wounds across his back and shoulders, bruises too, black and purple and swollen against his pale skin spoke of a vicious beating. Removing the cloak completely, she realised that the burns were worse toward the waist of his leather trousers – which were ominously bleached to a much paler shade around his hips. Reaching out to touch them she hissed in pain, as the smallest amount of the acidic fluid touched her skin.

"Kreacher. Bring me that blanket on the chair please." With a flick of her wand, Hermione transfigured the heavy woollen blanket into the softest of cotton sheets, which she tossed quickly over him for modesty. With a muttered charm she vanished his trousers, then carefully drew down the sheet to reveal a horrific sight. Clearly he had been standing, chained when the attack took place. The acid had run down his shoulders and back and soaked into the waist of his trousers, with nowhere to go, the acid had remained against his skin, leaving an expanse of raw flesh that stretched fully across his hips, nearly four inches in depth.

For all the damage though, Hermione couldn't help noticing as she considered the injuries before her, he was still beautiful. Tall, long limbed and muscular, with the broad shouldered, narrow hipped, defined build of a swimmer or a dancer. Brushing the long black hair back she revealed a thin high cheek-boned face, heavily bruised, with a proud straight nose and level black brows. He looked surprisingly peaceful at the moment, evidence of how deeply unconscious he was; but tears, and possibly vomit stained his skin, indicative of the horrors he must have endured. Lying there on her bed, he looked appallingly young to have suffered so much.

Turning to Thor, she voiced the questioned that had to be asked...

"What – and who – did this?"

Thor's face was grave as he answered "Our – my – Father"


	4. Chapter 4

_Warning: contains some unpleasant imagery in the third paragraph._

 _Usual disclaimer that I keep forgetting to add. I don't own anything... which is a shame really._

* * *

Having dispatched Kreacher to her potion store with a long list of requirements, Hermione listened to Thor's tale, her face grave and focused. He told them of Loki's fall into the void. Of his capture and torture by the Titan Thanos, and the breaking of his mind. She had been aware of the battle of New York, although little muggle news came to Hogwarts in general. It didn't seem possible that the boy lying on the bed before her could have been the cause – albeit not the instigator – of the horror that had taken place so recently on the other side of the Atlantic. Thor went on to tell her of Loki's defeat by the team of superheroes calling themselves the Avengers, and how he had taken the captured Loki back to Asgard, delivering him to trial confident of the justice and mercy of the All Father.

He had been wrong.

Returning from a mission to Alfheim, days later, Thor had discovered that Odin had had no interest in tales of Thanos and of mind control. No interest in the physical and mental torture needed to achieve that kind of control in one of Loki's stature and abilities. It had taken Thor a full day, but eventually he had found out the truth. Furious, his patience at an end, Odin had ordered the ultimate punishment, reserved only for the worst of Asgardian traitors. He ordered his guards to take Loki to the Mountains of the Moon, to be chained in the Cave of the World Serpent.

Once there, the venom of the serpent dripped with agonising slowness, onto her chained victim below. Viciously acidic, each drop of venom ate through flesh, muscle and eventually bone. Bereft of his magic, so unable to heal himself, Loki was still capable of withstanding terrible suffering before death eventually claimed him. Only a drop of the snake's venom directly onto his beating heart would grant that mercy – as Loki had been chained face down, this would have taken an horrifically long time. There were tears in Thor's eyes as he told of how he had finally found the cave, killed the snake and freed Loki, bringing him, through secret paths between worlds, to Midgard, as he called Earth, and to the one place that he knew that Loki would be safe and find healing.

Hogwarts Castle.

There was a great deal still to hear, Hermione knew, and her mind teemed with questions. But first there were more urgent matters to attend to. Using the potions and salves brought by Kreacher, she cleansed the festering wounds on Loki's back and shoulders, barely covering them with the lightest of dressings. His innate strength would, she suspected, be the only true healing – wizarding charms and potions would have little real effect. All she could do was keep him clean and as comfortable as possible, and allow his body to do the rest.

The worst of the wounds tended, Hermione took her wand, and muttering a series of complicated incantations under her breath, passed it over her patient. Like a magical scan, it detected injuries not visible to the naked eye; a fractured cheekbone under the bruising on his face, four fractured ribs, and the depth of the bruises to his back and abdomen. There was significant swelling and some tearing to the muscles of his chest, shoulders and upper arms, no doubt the result of his suffering in the cave. Moreover one knee was very swollen, possibly from a booted foot. Mindful of his injuries Hermione used a light levitation charm to lift Loki a hand's breadth off the bed, covering him only with the soft sheet, with an added warming charm for comfort. Finally, she used a bowl of warm water, scented with lemon and herbs to wipe away the traces of tears and worse, flipping him momentarily onto his back to allow her to clean him up more effectively.

Looking at him fully for the first time, Hermione realised that he may not be as young as she had first thought. There was something very controlled about that mouth, and even deeply unconscious the set of the black brows was imperious and forbidding, contrasting sharply with the long luxuriant lashes and high cheekbones. So, not the pretty boy that she had first thought – but a strikingly handsome man.

Guiltily aware that she had been staring, and of Thor's interested gaze, Hermione finally returned Loki to his original position, tweaked the cover back into place, checked that the levitation charm would hold, and ushered Thor and the Headmistress back into her sitting room. Despite the daytime heat, it was cold within the stone walls at this early hour, and she was grateful that Kreacher had thought to light a small fire, and provide a tray of tea. The three sat before the fire quietly for a moment, glad of the hot drink, but mindful of the sick man next door.

It was the Headmistress that broke the silence, informing Hermione that she would be relieving her of teaching duties for the remaining week of the term, to allow her to focus on her Loki. Frowning for a moment, Hermione realised the sense of this. Exams were finished, all that was left was to mark her student's papers, something that could easily be done privately while she watched over her patient.

Returning to the blonde Asgardian opposite, Hermione asked whether he intended to remain at Hogwarts with Loki for the time being. She was surprised when he responded in the negative "Alas" he continued, his blue eyes serious. "I would only run the risk of drawing attention to this place, and to my brother" Hermione looked up sharply at this unwitting revelation. "Besides, there is still much to be done in New York to repair the damage done – and I need to ensure that I keep S.H.I.E.L.D under my eye."

"S.H.I.E.L.D?" queried Hermione, puzzled.

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, a top secret department of your government. Run by a man named Nick Fury, whose similarity to my father extends far beyond his use of an eye patch. He is well aware of that which my Father refused to believe - that Loki was merely the puppet of Thanos – but that will not stop Fury pursuing him, if only for the knowledge which he believes my brother holds. Fury will attempt to extract that knowledge for his own uses, and like my father too, I suspect he has few scruples about how he obtains that information."

Thor sighed, sadly. "My little brother was deeply troubled even before all of this began. He needs peace and quiet, and healing if he is ever to be himself again."

"So he is your brother?" questioned Hermione.

"In all but blood" replied Thor. "We grew up together from infants, and until very recently we had no knowledge that we were not true brothers." He shook his shaggy blonde head sadly "I have the greatest respect for my father, and love for my mother, but this thing was not well done." Thor was silent for a moment, doubtless pondering his younger brother's troubled past. "That is another story – perhaps for my brother to tell you when he is able."

He rose from the chair, and taking Hermione's hand he brushed his lips gallantly over her fingers. Meeting her eyes he bid her farewell "I know that I leave my brother in very good hands." With a low bow to Professor McGonagall he left the room, escorted by Kreacher. Watching them down the corridor, Hermione had to smile at the odd picture that the huge Asgardian and the tiny elf presented.

Secure in the knowledge that her patient was likely to sleep for some hours yet, Hermione spent a few moments preparing a draught that she would certainly need later, before bidding the Headmistress good night. Returning to her bedroom, she transfigured a small stool into a large comfortable armchair, close to the bed, and, curling up under a blanket, she was soon asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Thank you VERY much to everyone that has read, followed favourited and reviewed my story. The response I have had since uploading yesterday has been amazing. With that in mind, and as it's a Bank Holiday and I'm not at work, here are four new chapters for you. I will try to update again before the weekend, but I have a horrendous week at work ahead so I can't promise._

 _As always I don't own anything. ..._

Hermione awoke suddenly a few hours later, conscious of a crick in her neck from having slid too deeply into the chair. Straightening up, rubbing her neck, she wondered for a moment what had woken her. Memories of the night's events returning, she turned to Loki, who was sweating and mumbling in his sleep, tears streaking his face, clearly trapped in a nightmare. Moving swiftly to his side, Hermione used the scented water, kept to temperature with a charm, to wipe his face once again. Speaking softly to him, she wiped the back of his neck – seeking to make him more comfortable, and hopefully bring him gently out of his terrors. Looking back to his face, she was surprised to see that she was being observed by a pair of sleepy and confused eyes of the brightest shade of green that she had ever seen.

"It's alright," she reassured softly "you're safe now. Thor brought you to us because he knew that you couldn't be found here. I'm going to take care of you." She continued to wipe his face, murmuring comforting nonsense, until his eyes closed once more, and his breathing became soft and even.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Loki slept until past lunchtime, by which time Hermione had had time to take a shower, and change her clothes. She dispatched Kreacher to the kitchens, requesting some lunch for herself, and a bowl of light broth and some bread for her patient – heaven knows when he had last eaten, and there was little flesh to spare on him. If he was to heal he needed feeding. She ate swiftly, leaving the broth on the table under a stasis charm.

Looking at Kreacher's stooped shoulders Hermione realised with a pang that the elderly house elf had also been up half the night. "Thank you for all that did last night my friend" she said affectionately. "Why don't you take yourself off and have a nap this afternoon, it was a long night, and you must be very tired. If I need anything I can always call one of the Castle Elves".

Kreacher turned his pale eyes on her and bowed low "It is Kreacher's pleasure to serve Mistress Hermione as Master Harry instructed. But Kreacher is tired, and will rest now." With a snap of his fingers the little figure disappeared leaving Hermione alone with her patient.

Aware of the distant sounds of the school around her, it seemed odd to be alone at this time of the day, but Hermione was all too aware of how important it was to keep her charge secret and safe. Setting wards to keep out all but the Headmistress and the House Elves, Hermione took down a book and waited for her patient to awaken.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

At first there was just comfort. His body was relaxed and easy, and although he couldn't feel the weight of blankets, Loki was aware of feeling warm and safe – the first time in a long time. Then the pain came, in his face, his knee and like steel in his ribs as he drew a deep breath, but worst in his back, bad enough to make him whimper humiliatingly.

The girl was there immediately, her brown eyes warm and concerned. He dimly remembered that she had been there when he woke in the night, he recalled too a soft voice, and a gentle hand sponging his face and neck – the smell of lemon and mint.

Suddenly he was on his back, although he couldn't recall turning. A small hand was lifting his head gently to allow her to give him sips of water. It seemed wrong to him that she should be serving him like this – he went to reach for the cup himself, but the pain that resulted from the sudden movement of his arms was enough to make him gasp.

"Keep still" the girl scolded gently. "You've done a lot of damage to the muscles in your chest and shoulders that will take some time to heal. Relax and let me help you." She chattered softly to him as she patiently gave the drink. "Slowly, or you'll make yourself ill". Then a bowl of broth, light and savoury, flavoured with herbs was there, and she was feeding him a little at a time. There was soft white bread too, which she dipped into the broth and fed to him in small pieces. Finally a small cup of warm honeyed wine, with the taste of something else beneath "syrup of poppies" she informed him "only a little, to help with the pain, and to allow you to sleep." After a few minutes, he was aware of the pain receding, leaving him feeling pleasantly relaxed – like too much good wine. Just as he drifted off though, he was suddenly aware of something that he should have realised before.

He was lying on his back.

With his injuries, he should be in agony now, even with the sleeping draught. Putting his hand down he realised to his amazement that he was _floating_ \- just a little above the bed. Was this the effect of the syrup she had given him? Seeing his confusion the girl chuckled – a lovely, musical sound – before waving a small wooden stick at him. "Just a light levitation charm to make you more comfortable."

She had magic…


	6. Chapter 6

Loki slept peacefully for most of the afternoon, as did Hermione, but when she awoke in the soft light of a summer's evening, she had an unpleasant shock. Her patient was tossing restlessly, and a hand to his cheek revealed that he was running a significant fever, no doubt a combination of his recent ill treatment, and the effects of the venom that he had been exposed to. Checking his back Hermione was relieved to see that there was no sign of infection to compound the problem.

Over the course of the night however, Loki's temperature continued to climb to an alarming degree. Hermione battled it with every weapon in her arsenal, but nothing seemed to make a great deal of difference. Finally, in the darkest hours of the night, she was forced to send Kreacher for the Headmistress. If Loki continued in this manner, in his weakened state, there was the very real possibility that his body would simply burn itself out – no matter how long lived his race was normally.

Not wishing to draw attention to the events unfolding in Hermione's rooms, the Headmistress had been careful to avoid them during the day, but Kreacher's urgent summons in the grey light of dawn had brought her hurrying to Gryffindor Tower. Entering the room, she was shocked to see the change in Loki. Last night he had been badly injured, but peaceful, and – she had to admit – a very handsome young man. Now his skin had a nasty greyish tinge, with black circles under his eyes. He seemed thinner too, the flesh falling away from his already thin face. Only his green eyes bright with fever, had any colour. It was fanciful, but she could almost feel the heat radiating from him. Hermione, straightening up as the Headmistress entered, looked little better, her face drawn and exhausted.

"I've tried everything" she admitted softly, so as not to disturb him. "Every fever potion I know, cold sponging, ice packs, cooling charms. I've even tried muggle paracetamol. Nothing works. He won't survive this for much longer if we can't break the fever." Her voice shook as she turned back to the bed, "Can you get a message to his brother? He will want to say…." her voice cracked with emotion " To be here if…"

"Did I hear someone say last night that this creature is one of the accursèd race of frost giants?" The voice coming from Hermione's sitting room was not familiar, sharp, demanding and imperious – although with hindsight, Hermione always swore that he sounded suspiciously like Lucius Malfoy. Entering the sitting room, Hermione and Professor McGonagall realised that the speaker, a dark thin faced man dressed in bottle green velvet, was currently occupying a picture frame over the fireplace, which usually housed two Irish wolfhounds – it was a particular favourite of Hermione's.

"Salazar Slytherin" exclaimed the Professor in shock "what are you doing in Gryffindor Tower, Sir?"

Slytherin looked disparagingly around the room and sniffed "Not by my choice madam believe me. I responded to an urgent summons from Phineas Nigellus. Nothing less would have persuaded me to leave my customary place in my Common Room to come to this – den of iniquity. Now madam, did I hear that this creature is a frost giant? It is not a difficult question. Blue skin, red eyes, dreadful tribal markings – around ten feet tall?"

"No" Hermione retorted – cordially disliking this arrogant man already. "Around 6 feet tall, black hair and bright green eyes." At this Slytherin vanished from sight, appearing again, looking very squashed in the frame of a tiny picture that hung next to the bedroom door.

"Quickly madam. Take me into the bedchamber. If this is the one I believe it to be the case is now most serious…" Obediently Hermione lifted the tiny frame off the wall and carried it into her bedroom. Drawing closer to the bed, she held the portrait so that Loki's face was clearly visible to Slytherin.

"Blessed Bilgesnipes" she heard him gasp. "Loki Odinson as I live and breathe! Odin Borson his father told me of his heritage in the strictest confidence – although his father's magic ensured that you could never tell to look at him. If this is the case you will need to get him much colder. I recommend the bathtub and a really good _glacius_ charm."

" _Glacius"_ cried a shocked Hermione "in this state you'll kill him"

"Really young lady" sniffed Slytherin sharply "I know this child, he was one of my protégés. Believe me he is much harder to kill than you would think. Now quickly! Do as I say. Unless you truly wish to kill him"

With the gravest of misgivings, but without any alternative to offer, Hermione ran to fill her large bathtub with cold water. Carefully levitating Loki from the bed into the bathroom was not easy, but they managed it in the end. Convinced that she was about to kill her first patient, she lowered him gently into the water. He screamed jack-knifing backwards as the cold water hit the wounds on his back, but after a few seconds he did appear to be more comfortable. Biting her lip, Hermione turned to her friend and mentor. "Professor, would you…. The charm..I don't think I can bring myself to…"

"Step back Hermione" commanded the elder witch, and in a moment Hermione's bathroom was full of freezing fog, forcing them back into the warmer bedroom.

"Now ladies" commanded Slytherin, from a side table where he had been left for safekeeping. "I suggest you leave him in there for a while longer. He needs to really chill down if this is to work."

Feeling like a murderess, Hermione used the time to change the bed sheets – unable to rid herself of the conviction that they would be bringing a dead man out of her bathtub. Surprisingly though, on re-entering the bathroom, ten minutes later, she found that Loki was not only cooler, but conscious and rational.

"Whoever thought to do this – I am eternally grateful" his voice – now she finally heard it – was smoother than she had expected, his pronunciation careful and precise. Hermione was irresistibly reminded of an old fashioned Shakespearian actor. The general effect, she had to admit, was devastating. The fact that he was naked in her bathtub – really wasn't helping matters at all, although a part of her couldn't help noticing that icy cold water clearly didn't appear to have the same effect on frost giants that it reputedly did on most men...

Red faced, Hermione fled the bathroom – eyes averted – muttering something about pyjamas. She could hear Loki chuckling weakly at her discomfiture, even in her sitting room.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Much later – when Loki, was safely back in bed – this time with a bandage around his hips to allow him to wear a pair of soft pyjama trousers – it was obvious that this drastic treatment had worked. His fever had broken, and bizarrely his skin tone was better, and the bags under his eyes were fading. All the excitement had clearly worn him out however, and after an early breakfast, patiently fed to him by an exhausted Hermione, he snuggled down into bed, clearly intending to sleep away the better part of the day. Hermione drew the sheet back over him, twitching the pillow back into place. Tired eyes met hers "Thank you mistress" he murmured softly. "You have been very kind to me I think, yet I do not even know your name?"

Hermione met his eyes, aware of the fluttering sensation in her stomach. She smiled down at him. "My name is Hermione" she replied, "and I am the Potions Mistress here at Hogwarts." She put a hand over his, "sleep now, we both need to rest". Hermione quietly thanked the Professor and Salazar Slytherin for their help, before retiring back to her armchair. The last thing she remembered before sleep overtook her, was the Headmistress drawing the curtain at her window, to shut out the bright summer morning.


	7. Chapter 7

On Saturday 24th June, a week after Loki's arrival, shortly after breakfast, Hogwarts School fell strangely silent, and the resident teaching staff began to look forward to a well deserved summer break. Hermione, still ensconced in her tower room, watched the students depart regretfully. Some would be leaving for the last time, and she had missed the opportunity to bid them goodbye and good luck.

Following his ice bath, Loki had continued to improve, under Hermione's care. Today he was seated in her sitting room, permitted out of bed to meet with a visitor – his former mentor Salazar Slytherin. Hermione had been fascinated to learn that the young man she had initially thought to be around her own age was actually over 1000 years old, and that Slytherin had spent some considerable time on Asgard following his disagreement with the other three Founders – magical travel between the realms being a much simpler matter in those days. During this time on Asgard the notable wizard had been asked by the All Father to help with his mageling son. Delighted with the boy's burgeoning talent, Slytherin had continued to mentor Loki until he was old enough to begin a warrior's training.

The two mages had been deep in conversation for at least two hours now, and Hermione had long since given up trying to keep up with the conversation – she had initially been annoyed by this, but consoled herself with the fact that both men had a thousand years worth of reading time over her. Instead, she looked forward to picking Loki's brains at a later date, when the supercilious Slytherin was not there to sneer at her ignorance.

Returning to her sitting room, she noticed that Loki was starting to flag a little, although she had never seen him so animated. Clearly he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. She turned to the portrait, deciding that the tactful approach might be the most productive.

"Lord Slytherin, it is most kind of you to visit Prince Loki this morning, clearly it has done him a great deal of good. Unfortunately, as his physician, I must insist that he rest now. This is the first day that he has been allowed out of bed, and it is important that he doesn't over tax himself." Loki looked mulish - he was adorable Hermione thought, but nonetheless she hardened her heart and escorted him firmly back to the bedroom.

"I don't know why you want me back in your bed again... I'm not even weary. You do realise that I need less sleep than you mortals?" It was good that he was finally up to speaking to her, but the tightness of his jaw bespoke his discomfort still so Hermione refused to be drawn.

"Let me take your shirt off please, I need to check your back..." Loki raised an eyebrow.

"First you try to get me into your bed, now you wish to remove my clothing. Are all the ladies of Midgard so forward?" The spark in his green eyes was new, and welcome, clearly he couldn't resist teasing her, making her blush. Hermione was woefully afraid that he had probably succeeded. Her hands went to the buttons of his black shirt, but she hesitated. What was it about this impossible man that made every action potentially erotic? Earlier that day she had caught herself simply watching him moving around her room. Even sore and stiff, he moved with a dancer's grace. Blushing she had turned awkwardly away pretending that she had not been staring.

Having managed to unbutton his shirt without making a complete fool of herself, Hermione had to stretch up to slide the fabric off his surprisingly broad shoulders – why did he have to be so tall. Carefully vanishing the bandages she was pleased to see that the deep raw wounds were healing cleanly, with an inhuman speed. She sternly reminded herself that this was not some handsome mortal man she was flirting with. This creature before her was almost immortal – likely to live for thousands more years, and when in full possession of his abilities, wielded a terrifying magical power far beyond anything a mortal wizard was capable of. She was playing with fire without a doubt, and needed to take herself firmly in hand. _"Liar"_ said a little voice in her head " _what you really want is for him to take_ _you_ _in hand – and those hands..."_ She did have to admit that he had beautiful hands – oh dammit – he did it again! Fortunately he was now able to move a little easier, able to accomplish some tasks without help – something for which Hermione was very grateful _"Lying again"_ said the irritating voice _._ He still needed help with anything that involved raising his arms though, and his broken ribs meant that moving and breathing still had to be done with some care.

With this in mind, Hermione firmly ushered her reluctant patient back to bed.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Late the following morning, Hermione was helping Loki to get dressed. As she focussed on transfiguring another shirt for him out of one of hers, he was looking into the mirror opposite.

"Hermione"

"Yes Loki"

"Would you mind doing something for me...?" She looked up enquiringly – he pulled a face at his reflection, "I don't suppose you can do something with my hair? It's beginning to feel positively matted, and if I leave it like this, I'm probably going to have to cut it all off" he looked down at her with a self mocking smile "and I have big ears – so I look terrible with my hair too short".

Hermione giggled and walked around him, eyeing his black hair dubiously – there was absolutely nothing wrong with his ears she noticed. "It certainly needs a wash – and could probably do with a trim – do you usually wear it this long?"

"Not if I can help it – it has a distressing tendency to curl – and I was reckoned effeminate enough on Asgard, without a head of long flowing curls." There was a bitter twist to his mouth now, which made something in Hermione's stomach clench in sympathy.

"I cannot imagine how anyone with at least one functioning eye or half a brain could ever describe you as effeminate..." Oh God, did she really just say that? Although it was certainly true.

He smiled wryly "And I thank you for that, but where I come from magic is a woman's art. Not that it got me out of a warrior's training too, although I was never expected to amount to much. I might be half my broth... Thor's weight but never hindered me in battle. What I lack in bulk I make up for in speed. And if the worst comes to the worst I at least had the brains to get us out of trouble."

Hermione smiled, calling Kreacher to her. "Could you bring me the large stone basin and pedestal that stand in my classroom please Kreacher, if it isn't too heavy for you?" The little elf bowed so low that his long ears nearly brushed the ground.

"It is Kreacher's pleasure Mistress Hermione". With a snap of his long fingers, the requested bowl appeared. There were other bowls that she could have used, but this one had the advantage that, when activated with a tap of a wand, it would remain magically filled with clean warm water until closed the same way. It was perfect for washing potions equipment – and hair in this case. Settling Loki in a chair, with a folded cloth to pad his back, she tried to get a brush through his hair before she washed it. Unfortunately, as she had suspected, it was in a bad state, and would require some extra help. Going into her bathroom, she retrieved a number of bottles, which her "victim" eyed somewhat nervously. "Don't look so worried", she reassured him "this won't hurt a bit"

Taking the cork from the first bottle, she poured a small amount of an odourless oil onto the palm of her hand. Working it gently through the tangles, it soon helped to loosen them sufficiently for her to be able to work a brush, and finally a comb through. Combing his hair gently back into the warm water with her fingers, she set to work.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: This chapter ranges from cavity inducing fluff to angsty at the end. You have been warned..._

 _Because I'm rubbish and I keep forgetting. I regret to say that I really don't own any of the Thor or Harry Potter characters. If I did, someone would have taken a lot better care of Loki..._

Professor Malfoy had been a little concerned at the absence of his friend for the last few weeks, and had been unable to account for it satisfactorily. Bumping into Kreacher outside Hermione's rooms, he had no difficulty in entering in the company of the little elf, in spite of the wards. Seeing the bedroom door open, he put his head around to say hello – and froze in shock.

Hermione was bent over the head of a man – and appeared to be washing his hair! The man in question was sprawled on his chair with a long limbed elegance, and was moreover, stripped to the waist. He certainly seemed to be enjoying himself, if the look of blissful contentment on his face was anything to go by. Hermione was chatting softly to the man, and so absorbed were they both that they were completely unaware of his presence. Uncomfortably realising that he was probably intruding, Draco made a discreet exit, resolving to owl Hermione before making a slightly more formal call on her.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Utterly oblivious to her audience, Hermione cast a quick drying spell over Loki's hair and reached for a towel to dry her hands. Turning back, she smiled softly. Sprawled out in the chair, his face turned into the soft towel beneath, Loki was fast asleep. Totally relaxed, his hair loose, he looked very peaceful, and very very young. She reached out a tentative hand to brush against his cheek. She knew a little of what this man was like, knew the trouble that had followed him to New York, and suspected that he could be far more arrogant and unpleasant than Draco had ever been, even at his worst. Yet since his unceremonious arrival into her life, she had also seen a sweetness and vulnerability that had touched something deep within her. He would, she thought suddenly, be terribly easy to fall in love with.

"Mistress Hermione"

Giving herself a mental shake, Hermione turned away, to see Kreacher standing in the doorway.

"Mistress Hermione, the Headmistress says that you have a visitor, and asks that I bring him up with your permission."

Hermione cast an anxious glance at the sleeping man, but realised that the Professor would not send up someone that would be a threat.

"Certainly Kreacher, thank you." Before leaving the bedroom to greet her guest, Hermione levitated Loki onto the comfort of the bed. Pulling a light cover over him, she was turning to close the curtain when she heard a familiar, deep voice behind her.

"He looks much better – and somehow younger." Turning, she found Thor hovering half in and half out of her bedroom. She smiled in recognition.

"He is much better now, but I don't mind telling you that it was a close run thing." Her face became more serious. " The night after you brought him here he ran a terrible fever. I thought we were going to lose him. It might have been useful to have had some more details of Frost Giant physiology"

Thor looked uncomfortable. "I know very little of them myself. His ancestry has never been spoken of - I didn't find out myself until after he fell into the Void. All I know of Frost Giants is how to kill them."

Glaring at him in disbelief, Hermione took a large elbow and steered him out of the room, casting a concerned glance at the sleeping figure on the bed. Escorting Thor down to the garden, Hermione rounded on him furiously.

"What do you mean – how to kill them? This is your BROTHER you're talking about." She looked at the blonde giant beside her, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable and sighed. "I think you'd better start from the beginning..."

Thor sank onto a convenient bench, resting his elbows on his knees. "You have to understand, the Frost Giants of Jotenheim are the deadliest enemies of Asgard, and their King Laufey is the worst. Loki and I grew up hearing tales of his wickedness, and as we grew older our play battles were always against the wicked King of the Frost Giants. When Asgardian children are naughty the name of Laufey is used to frighten them." Hermione sank onto the bench, squeezing in beside Thor, her knees suddenly weak."

"So if Loki is a Frost Giant?"

Thor looked as though he wished he were a million miles away. "...Laufey's son."

"WHAT!"

Thor studied a flutterby bush with great interest. "When I was very small Father went to war with the Frost Giants. He defeated them utterly, losing his eye in the process. After the battle, he was mopping up pockets of resistance with a small group of men, when he entered a ruined temple and heard the cry of a baby. He had been left on the snow and rocks to die."

Hermione's eyes were huge "Left to die. His parents were dead?"

"No, they were very much alive. He was too small – a runt, not worth the effort of raising in their eyes. Father picked him up, used his magic to turn him into an Aesir, and brought him home to Mother."

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to quell the wave of nausea. "Laufey's son..." she could just imagine the effect that this knowledge would have on the sensitive and proud man upstairs...

"Are you quite finished?"

Hermione – standing - whirled around, to come face to face – for the first time - with Loki Prince of Asgard. Pulled up to his full height, emerald green eyes spitting fire - face white and furious.

"Loki.."

His eyes were as cold as ice. "Did I give you leave to call me by my name woman?"

Thor drew in his breath sharply "Brother.."

"I. AM. NOT. YOUR. BROTHER!" A detached part of Hermione's brain reflected that it was fortunate that Loki didn't have his magical powers at that moment, or they might truly be in trouble. Turning to Thor, she put her hand on his arm.

"Thor, I think you should go." He looked doubtful.

"I should stay to protect you."

Hermione sighed, watching as an incandescent Loki stalked away from them across the lawns back to the castle. "Somehow Thor, I think NOT having you here at the moment might be better. He's furious, but he won't actually hurt me. He might have a go at hurting you though. He isn't restricted by any laws of chivalry where you're concerned.

And if the worst comes to the worst, I still have magic and he doesn't"

Still looking doubtful, Thor retreated back to the castle, no doubt intending to make the Headmistress aware of the situation. Sighing, Hermione followed Loki back to Gryffindor Tower.

Walking into her sitting room, she found Loki pacing restlessly back and forth – she was irresistibly reminded of a black panther that she had once seen at the zoo. She half expected to see a twitching tail behind him and smiled briefly at the image.

"Do you think this is funny?"

Hermione took a deep breath and remembered everything that she'd just heard. Summoning every ounce of empathy she possessed she stepped toward him, hand extended "Loki..."

He recoiled back from her as if stung. "How dare you pity me woman! You miserable mewling mortal – how dare you even look at me. I am Loki – Prince of Asgard, and you are NOTHING! Even without my powers I could crush you with one hand!"

He paused to draw breath before rounding back to a white faced, paralysed Hermione.

"Just because I permitted you to wait on me while I was sick, you think that makes you MY equal? You are nothing – your lifespan is but a heartbeat. You are less than a mayfly to me!"

Stung Hermione clenched her fists, preparing to give as good as she got, until she saw the pain and fury blazing in his eyes. Suddenly he looked every single one of his thousand years.

Her pity must have been written, clear across her face...

"GET OUT – LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Stunned, Hermione backed away, struggling to recognise the man she had come to know in the arrogant and furious figure before her. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, she fled from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Note: The response since my last posting on Monday has been amazing. I can't believe the wonderful reaction to this story. THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone that has favourite, followed and especially reviewed_

 _As I feared this week at work has been insane, but I've turned the corner now, so here's another update to keep you going... I loved writing this chapter – it was one of those that felt like it virtually wrote itself – I wish they were all like that._

 _As usual, I own nothing..._

As the door slammed behind Hermione, Loki sank weakly into a chair – head in his hands.

What had he done?

He hadn't meant to lose control like that... but when he saw her talking to HIM in the garden, and when he heard all of his wretched and most shameful secrets revealed...

And worse, when he saw the pity in her eyes...

He had spent most of his life, in the shadows, Thor's younger brother – always second best. Never quite matching up

Too thin, too dark, too pale, too magical. Not Thor. Not a REAL warrior. Never mind the number of times his brains and magic had got Thor and his friends out of trouble, and home in one piece.

To most people he would always be the sneaky, skinny little runt with his nose in a book...

Then Hermione came. With her soft voice, and gentle hands. With an intellect that matched his, and a smile that turned his knees to water. The time they had spent together had been some of the best of his life, cocooned in this room with her, feeling warm and safe and accepted for who he was for the first time in more centuries than he cared to remember.

Now it was over. Now she knew the worst of him. The son of a monster. The son that even a monster didn't want. Red eyes, blue marked skin and hands that could freeze on contact.

The demon under his childhood bed.

Not a son, a brother, a prince. A weapon, a puppet - a war trophy, to be kept in his place, and used when needed.

Cold and shaking, he retreated to the bedroom, curling up, not on the bed but in the chair where she had slept since his arrival, watching over him like a guardian angel.

Pulling the blanket, which still smelled of her, around him, he finally allowed himself to cry, until sleep took him.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

She didn't come back that night.

A strange elf brought a tray of food up to him, but he sent it away. Curled up in the armchair in a knot of misery, he spent a wretched night, tormenting himself with the thoughts of what he may have had, and thrown away.

But the following morning he dragged himself out of the chair, pausing to brush his teeth and hair, and put on a clean shirt, before he went in search of Hermione.

Some things were worth fighting for.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

The night before, Hermione had retreated to the top of the Astronomy Tower until she had cried herself out...

Afterwards, she had knocked on Draco's door, and been welcomed with Earl Grey Tea, and the offer of his very large and comfortable sofa for the night, although she had slept badly.

Waking just after dawn, she was too restless to stay indoors, so plaiting her impossible morning hair; she wandered aimlessly into the garden. Sitting on the seat where everything had gone so horribly wrong the day before she gazed bleakly across the lawn.

"Something troubles you Friend Hermione?"

Turning Hermione came face to chest with Firenze, the Centaur from the Dark Forest who had taught Divination since the departure of Professor Trelawney in the days before the great battle. While Hermione had never been a fan of Divination as a subject, she and Firenze had a great deal in common, and enjoyed one another's company. Today however, she just sighed, too disheartened to answer.

"Come Hermione. Let us take a walk in the gardens. We will talk, or we will be silent as you wish."

Pacing alongside the great Centaur, Hermione found herself relaxing.

"You should probably be aware that last evening, the Headmistress took me into her confidence. Is all not well between yourself and this young Prince of Asgard?"

Hermione bit her lip, before succumbing to the urge to ask for his advice. "We quarrelled Firenze. It was terrible." Her voice wobbled ominously. "He was so angry. I had forgotten what he is, how powerful he is. I was afraid of him."

"How did this begin?"

"Thor, his foster brother, came to see us yesterday while Loki was sleeping. There was information on Loki that would have been useful to know when he was very sick. We went down to the garden, and Thor was telling me Loki's history. It was so sad. Then HE was there, and I didn't recognise him. He has been so sad and sweet, and and ... then suddenly he was all fire and ice and so angry. He told me I was nothing – a miserable, mewling mortal. That he has simply 'allowed me to serve him'" The tears were coming again, she swiped them away angrily.

The centaur paced quietly for a moment, thinking, and allowing her time to compose herself, before he turned to face her.

"Friend Hermione, I believe you care for this Prince"

"I do – did. And I thought that he might care for me too, but how can he when he despises me so completely".

Firenze and Hermione walked a little further, pausing to look over the Black Lake.

"Are you familiar with the turtle?"

Caught out by the _non sequiteur_ , she nodded.

"Then you may be aware that there are birds which catch these turtles, and drop them onto rocks far below to break open their shells." Hermione shuddered at the brutal image.

"This young Prince of Asgard has lost everything; his family, his name, his reputation and his identity. The only thing he has left is his title, and in his heart he does not even truly believe in his right to that any more. He is like a turtle on a rock with its shell split open. Everything that has always protected him is gone, and every passing breeze hurts."

"His foster brother Thor is one of the few constants in his life, but he is also the one that stands between him and the sun. He both loves him and hates him. The fact that it was his brother that rescued him from an agonising death, alone, and brought him here – to you, only complicates his feelings. Confronted by the two of you together, discussing things which he would have done anything to keep private, he draws his role as the arrogant Prince of Asgard around him like a suit of armour, lashing out to protect himself from further pain"

Hermione was silent, although her eyes were damp.

"Hermione Granger. This young man is your intellectual equal, one whose thirst for knowledge matches your own. He has been through a great deal, but should you give him a chance. I truly believe that the prize may be worth the journey."

Hermione smiled up at him through her tears. "One thing does not change about you my friend."

He looked puzzled. Reaching up, she kissed his cheek. "You still speak in riddles. Now I just need to wait until after breakfast, so that I can go and speak to him."

Firenze looked over her head and smiled.

"I don't believe that that will be necessary"

Turning she saw a solitary figure, standing at a distance, hands in pockets, watching them uncertainly.

"Loki"

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Did he go to her, or did she come to him? All Hermione knew was that one moment he was watching her speaking to Firenze. The next he was there, her arms around him and his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry". She could hear his heart pounding under her ear, and looking up, she saw that his face was as wet as hers.

"I'm sorry too, I should have waited – you would have told me when you were ready." Reaching up, she traced his jaw with her finger, loving the opportunity to touch him so freely. One of his hands was at the back of her neck, the other cradling her jaw.

"I'm so sorry Hermione."

His lips were on her hair, her forehead, brushing her eyelashes, making her shiver. Finally his mouth found hers, sweetly hesitant at first, then more assured, nipping at her lips, demanding her submission. Head spinning, drowning in sensation, Hermione was unable to suppress a small moan as she surrendered willingly, following his lead. Intense, breathless moments followed before the need for oxygen finally forced them apart. Afterwards, they looked at one another, aware that everything in their world had changed, possibly forever.

Reaching out, Loki wrapped his long beautiful fingers around her hand.

"Walk with me."


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Sorry, this chapter is quite long and a bit exposition-heavy. Don't give up on me please..._

 _Warning. Contains a little more detail on Loki's punishment towards the end._

 _Disclaimer. I do not own Harry Potter or Thor... I just like taking Loki out and messing him up occasionally._

Hermione and Loki followed the paths, down through the gardens, across the lawns to the Black Lake. They talked a little, but generally they were silent, content simply to be together, her hand in his. Eventually, Hermione became concerned that they had gone too far, conscious of his healing injuries. Finding a sheltered spot against a majestic oak tree, they rested, Hermione's head, pillowed into Loki's shoulder.

"Hermione?"

"Mm hmm" she had slept badly last night, and was very comfortable...

"I want to tell you..."

"What?"

"Everything..."

Being snuggled into his shoulder was a really good place to be, but a serious conversation like this demanded eye contact. Spinning round ninety degrees, Hermione draped her legs over his, so that she could look up into his eyes.

"You know about my birth...From Thor?"

"Yes"

"That's a start. Odin brought me back to Asgard, and raised me as his son. But for as far back as I can remember, I was never good enough. Thor was the golden boy, the Asgardian ideal. And I loved him I truly did. All I ever wanted was to be like him. You've seen him. The ultimate warrior – the perfect Asgardian Prince. I was always just – odd - different. I was close to my mother though, I have my magic from her, but nothing I did was ever good enough for my father." He sighed. "I don't want to turn this into a catalogue of my childhood woes; I suppose in general I had everything I needed..."

Hermione nodded, understanding "..but it was like wearing shoes on the wrong feet".

He looked at her amazed "That's right. The other children always knew I was different too. In the end I just retreated into my books and lessons. Once I was acknowledged as a man, and a warrior it was a little easier. When Thor went off on his adventures with his warriors, I would go too – if only to keep him out of trouble." His eyes hardened briefly "Not that my efforts were ever worthy of mention. Magic, however useful is not the skill of a real warrior.

Three years ago, my father announced that it was time for Thor's coronation." He rolled his eyeballs. "He is much improved now, but at the time he was insufferable, an arrogant ignorant braggart. Was such a one to be king of Asgard and Guardian of the Nine Realms? I was determined to prove to my father that he wasn't ready. I never aspired to be king in his place, I simply wanted father to delay, to give Thor a chance to grow up. But that was where it all started to unravel."

"What happened?"

"I let two Frost Giants into the Weapons Vault. I told them that they could take back The Casket of Ancient Winters, which Odin stole so many years ago. I knew that they wouldn't stand a chance, and they didn't. It was Thor's reaction that I was interested in."

"Go on"

"Thor was beyond furious, his coronation had been ruined. He quarrelled violently with Father over whether or not we should retaliate. Later it was pathetically easy to nudge him into believing that the only solution was to defy Father's express orders and go to Jotenheim, to put Laufey in his place. It was never going to work – I left a message for Father before we left. Knowing he would pull us out, which he did. But by the time we left Jotenheim, I knew the truth."

"The truth?"

"You know now what a Frost Giant looks like, they are formidable opponents. Their worst weapon is their touch. It burns, exposed flesh, like a deep frost bite. One of them burned Volstagg, for an Aesir it took a long time to heal."

He was trembling now, running his hand nervously through his hair. Hermione took one of his hands in hers, offering silent comfort and support.

"I was fighting three of them. I took the first two easily, but the third one lost his balance and reached for me. He grabbed my arm - here." Loki rubbed the spot, fretfully. " I was braced for the pain, but it never came, then I looked down and – and – my arm was - was _blue_ with markings just like his. I don't know which of us was more surprised. I suppose I must have killed him, but I don't remember. I just remember the fear, this awful sinking all encompassing fear – this realisation that there was no going back from this.

As I had planned, Father saved us, and took us back to Asgard. He was furious. Thor was banished to Midgard – Earth – and his hammer sent after him, to be regained if he was worthy – I didn't expect that.

The first time I transformed properly was later that day, when I touched the Casket of Ancient Winters. Father - Odin, found me. That's when I found out the truth. It all seemed so clear suddenly. He was never interested in me as a son. Just as a potential puppet king for Jotenheim, a weapon, like the Casket, to be stored away until it was needed.

I was not his son. My mother was not my mother, I was raised to believe that I was born to be a king, but I was not a king, not a prince of Asgard...I was just a puppet, a tool to be used." He drew a deep, shuddering breath

"A monster. The demon of my childhood nightmares...used to frighten naughty children"

"There was a terrible fight, then Father fell into the Odinsleep. It's a sort of magical coma, where he recharges his power. Getting upset can trigger it – and he had been putting it off for a long time. With Thor banished and father unconscious I saw my chance. I was King in his stead, this was a chance to have my revenge on the creature that abandoned me. I went back to Jotenheim and invited Laufey into Asgard, promising him the Casket, and the chance of vengeance on my father. But I had to do something dreadful."

She was curled up against him now, both of them needing the reassurance of the close physical contact. Reaching up she brushed a kiss against his jaw. "Loki – what did you do?"

"I needed to make sure that Thor stayed on Midgard. If he'd come back he would have ruined everything. So I went down to see him. Told him that the shock of banishing him had killed Father, and that Mother never wanted to see him again.

I broke his heart.

He believed me without question. I was just feeding the his guilt.

My plan worked perfectly, Laufey was standing over my father, about to kill him when I killed him

But something else had happened that I didn't expect. Thor had met this woman – a scientist, Jane Foster. Because of her, he changed, became the man you met, won his hammer back. Of course that was after I tried to kill him, and nearly levelled a town in New Mexico."

Hermione put her head in her hands... "That has to be the biggest breakdown in galactic history I think. You don't do things by halves do you? How did you end up in New York?"

"Thor came back. I was trying to destroy the whole realm of Jotenheim – thank the gods that Thor stopped me. He broke the bridge - we both ended up hanging over the Void – between the worlds." He gazed over her head, across the lake, a million miles away.

"I let go"

His arms went around her, his cheek resting on her hair, desperate for the comfort she offered. Taking all of his sins, his arrogance and stupid schemes, examining them one by one, and laying them before her, was the hardest thing he had ever done in the whole of his long life. But in his heart, he knew that there was no other way for him, or for them together. Hermione was strong and compassionate. He had to trust that she would understand that he was not that foolish hurt boy, not any more. He hoped that she would cope with what he told her, but he was certain that she would not cope with easy lies and half truths.

"When I fell into the void, I fell for what felt like an eternity. Eventually I was drawn in to a moon called Titan, where I discovered what a REAL monster is.

Thanos.

I can't tell you exactly what they did to me. It's all confused now. But they broke me. They tortured me and let me heal, only to torture me again. They kept me alone in the darkness until I forgot everything but the pain and the loneliness. Then they put me back together, and showed me the mind-gem.

I can't describe its effects. I used it to control others, but its control over me was complete. I had to open a portal – over New York. I let the Chitauri army through – Thanos' army. There was a battle – people died and great swathes of that city were destroyed – and it's my fault – it's all my fault" His control was slipping away, but doggedly he ploughed on, determined to get everything out into the open.

"I surrendered to Thor in the end. He took me back to Asgard in chains. He believed that I would be imprisoned, both of us knew that there was a small possibility that I would be executed - I didn't mind that so much. At least it would all be over, and quickly, and I would be at peace. The Avengers had learned that my mind was being controlled. Thor was convinced that that would mean that Odin would be merciful.

But Odin didn't order me imprisoned. Or executed by the axe.

He sent me to the cave..."

Hermione drew a deep shuddering breath. Of this whole sad sorry story, this was the part she was dreading. The angry broken boy that had done such things was long gone. But what was coming next had happened to this man, in her arms, his body shuddering with the memories of what she was about to hear, probably in more detail than she wanted. She took a deep breath and readied herself, turning to straddle his knees, so that she could face him, but still be as close to him as physically possible.

"The Cave of the World Serpent, in the Mountains of the Moon, lies five days journey from Asgard."

"Did you know...?"

"Oh yes. Odin, and my guards made sure that I knew my fate in gruesome detail. It was a long journey – plenty of time to think. With the exception of their captain, each one of them had old grudges against me." He was silent for a moment. "Five days was plenty of time for them too – they were not – kind. Finally we got to the foot of the mountains. I don't feel the cold, but I was cold then.

Cold – and afraid. Really, truly terrified, for possibly the first time in my life .

I do not fear death. In battle or of wounds. Surrounded by comrades. That is the warriors way – the Asgardian way. To die with honour and feast with my ancestors in Valhalla. They probably don't allow Frost Giants in Valhalla" he added sadly.

"But to die like that – flesh and blood and bone stripped away, inch by agonising inch, unable to move or help myself. Alone and in agony. Yes, I was more afraid than I have ever been. And there would be no Thor to save me, not this time. I could not believe, after everything I had done, that he would care. He wasn't even at my trial, I had not seen him since he delivered me to Odin"

"When finally we reached the cave, my legs gave beneath me. They called me coward, and kicked and punched me to make me move. Then they stripped me."

He shuddered – his eyes dark, remembering the feeling of their hard hands on his body, on bruising and broken ribs. Of the liberties they had taken, mocking him, until they finally grew bored, and chained him into position. Stretched against a rock beneath the snake's mouth, his arms at their fullest stretch.

"When the first drop of venom hit my skin... I've never felt anything like it. They were watching – laughing at me. I was determined not to cry out, not to give them the satisfaction – but it was so hard. Finally - eventually they left me.

I don't know how long I was there. There was a stream just outside. I could hear it but I couldn't reach it. Then there was just cold, and dark, and thirst..."

And pain. Worse than anything he had ever known.

Until – miraculously – Thor came...

There was nothing more to tell. Tears in her own eyes Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, as he cried.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Much later, when it was all over, and both of them felt as though they had no tears left to cry, Hermione called Kreacher, and asked him to take them home.

Loki was exhausted – and slightly feverish Hermione noticed with concern. She sent him for a cool bath, while Kreacher brought them an early supper.

Afterwards, they curled up together on the bed and slept.

And that night, for the first time, there were no nightmares.


	11. Chapter 11

_Warning. Hermione gets completely out of hand in this chapter (who wouldn't – honestly!)_

 _In other words - sexual content. If this is not your thing, you won't miss anything critical if you wait for the next chapter._

 _Disclaimer. I do not own anything..._

Hermione was awoken – far too early in her befuddled opinion – by a sharp tapping on her window. Opening her eyes she saw an unfamiliar owl perched on the sill. Reaching for her wand, she flicked the window open a fraction.

"Bit busy at the moment – can you deliver to the owlery please?" The owl gave a small irritated hoot and disappeared – it probably wasn't for her anyway. Snuggling back down Hermione realised why she was so very comfortable. Curled up on her side, she was spooned up against Loki's bare chest. One large hand was wrapped possessively around her stomach pulling her tightly into him, and something was digging into her hip..

Ohh...

There were worse ways to wake she thought with a wicked smile, unable to resist a little wiggle of her hips...

"Stop it..."

The deep, gravelly voice in her right ear indicated that Loki just stirring – although she was well aware that at least one part of him was most certainly awake and taking an interest in the proceedings. Heat flooding through her body at their intimate position and she was unable to resist one more wiggle..

"Her-mi-on-e". He rolled over onto his back, with Hermione in pursuit. Oh God he was adorable, with his hair all on end, half naked and half awake. What was a girl to do?

Wriggling up his long body to claim a good morning kiss, she was acutely aware of his bare skin, the hardness of his muscles like steel under silk and the fact that there was only the thin fabric of her vest top between them. In seconds he was wide awake, the kiss catching fire, and she was pinned to the mattress by his weight, her hands buried in his hair. His hands ghosted over her skin, finding the softness of her stomach under her top, moving upwards, teasing the underside of her breasts. She arched into the touch, gasping her pleasure into his kiss...

"Loki"

"OW, dammit!" In seconds he was off her, lying on his back, his face grey with pain.

"Oh God, your shoulders! Your ribs! Are you alright?"

He glared at her "I've never been better. Hermione can you _please_ do something for me?"

"What's the matter"

His breathing was heavy and ragged, his green eyes almost black. His jaw was rigid with a tension that was only partly pain. "Will you please give me some space - and put some clothes on".

Hermione shot backwards, stung. Rejection hurt. Determined not to make a scene, she turned away – make good her escape with her dignity intact. Seconds later Loki realised his mistake.

"Hermione – oh Gods – no – come here that isn't what I meant." She paused uncertainly. He held his hand out to her, drawing her back to the bed taking a deep breath. "Hermione, I'm sorry. You are so beautiful – you are driving me insane woman. Please, sit." Still wary, she perched beside him.

"I am a mage Hermione, and a prince, but I am also a man – and it has been a VERY long time. Firstly I am trying really hard to be the gentleman that my mother raised, because I don't want to pressure you, and secondly I really don't want to start something that I will be in no fit state to finish. And you cuddled up against me wearing..." his eyes swept heatedly over her body in a way that made Hermione's head swim. "... next to nothing is not making this any easier."

"How long is a VERY long time to an immortal mage?"

He was blushing in the most intriguing places. "A VERY long time. I'm not exactly considered a catch in Asgard you know. Women that wanted to sleep with me generally wanted something. Access to my magic, to Thor, to my Father. I got tired of being used I suppose. Keeping my distance was just easier."

Baffled by the breathtaking blindness of Asgardian women, she ran her fingers gently over his bare chest, loving the way his skin quivered under her touch. His eyes darkened as he drew his breath in, trying to get a grip on himself. The fact that he clearly wanted her so very badly was like a fire in her blood. Normally shy in bed, all sorts of things that would shock the hell out of her mother were running through her head right now.

He was beautiful, and broken, and hers. She wanted him.

Now.

Crawling over him, shaking her hair loose, she murmured wickedly "And who says that I don't want something from you...?"

Oh she was going straight to hell - she watched his face fall. "W-What do you want from me?"

Leaning forward, well aware that he could see straight down her top, she whispered huskily in his ear. "I want to look straight into your eyes, and see the expression on your face the first time I make you come..."

His eyes glazed, and he nearly lost it – there and then.

"Relax Loki" she smiled "just lie back and let me take care of you". Like it was EVER going to be that easy. He was trying to sit up. If it wasn't for his injuries and his recent traumas, she would have been tempted to break out the magical handcuffs.

"I can't possibly just let ... it should be me... nnggghh" Her lips busy on his neck Hermione noticed with interest, that the very ticklish spot just behind his ear would clearly warrant further investigation - later. She nibbled down the line of his jaw, loving the smell of him, leather and wood smoke and something musky and indefinably _him_.

"Let me explain something to you" she whispered. "I - want you. Very very badly. Right now. But you are in no state to help me out at the moment. In four or five days, you will be better – then it will be my turn. Now though, consider this a freebie."

"You mean you usually charge?" The way he lifted one teasing eyebrow did terrible terrible things to her…

Hermione dropped her head into his neck and giggled "No you fool. On this occasion there is no expectation of your reciprocation. Now please stop talking, and while I get to play, you can go back to making those delicious little noises you were making just now..."

Slowly, inch by agonising inch, she worked her way down his body. Learning his taste, his skin - where her favourite places were. She loved the way he groaned as she ran her tongue up his throat, and that he arched into her mouth, gasping, when she flicked a nipple with her teeth. She discovered that he had that little ticklish spot just above his left hip, and that he scowled adorably when she teased him. Oh yes, a girl could play for ever with this man. Nuzzling her nose into his navel she followed that intriguing little line of soft dark hair that had been driving her crazy for days, disappearing, most inconveniently into the waistband of his pyjamas.

Which she vanished – with a flick of non verbal wandless magic.

Talking of wands!

Just looking at him made her mouth water. She had been planning on teasing him for hours, but suddenly she could wait no longer.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Loki had long ago given up any hope of ever thinking coherently again. All he could think of was this amazing woman who was wringing sounds and sensations from him that he never thought he was capable of.

It wasn't that he was a shrinking virgin, but face it, when a woman is doing THAT to you, for no other reason than she really, truly wants to – that is seriously wonderful. And right now he was just worried that he would lose control completely before she even reached her ...

Target – yes – that – now – oh Gods... That evil evil tongue slid over him from root to tip, flicking and teasing him finding every single nerve ending he possessed, making him almost levitate off the bed with strangled cry. Her fingers had found that secret spot between his legs, and his entire body was on fire. Reluctant to let the moment go too soon, he fought for control, but, with eyes locked on his, and a wicked smile on her face, she slid her lips slowly over him, humming with delight and he was lost. Then it was just her and her mouth and her tongue and that little swirling trick that she did – somewhere he could hear someone making an embarrassing amount of noise, but it no longer seemed to matter. He was doing his best to hang on, but he could feel the pressure building and now it was a battle he didn't want to win. Surrendering completely to her, his vision flashed white as he shattered into a thousand pieces...

When the world started to spin again, he found that she was still there, bringing him down gently with little licks and kisses. Seeing his eyes open, she crept back up the bed to snuggle into his arms. Tasting himself on her lips as he kissed her was strange but curiously erotic – and the smile on her face was both smug and ridiculously naughty. The idea of a shared shower or bath was appealing, but just for now, it was time to cuddle, and maybe sleep. ..


	12. Chapter 12

_Many thanks for everyone that is supporting this story – I hope you're still enjoying it. Apologies, I am a little bit behind on answering my reviews. I promise to get caught up this weekend!_

 _Another thank you goes to Slugette, on Deviant Art, for permission to use her picture "A Taste of Desire" as the cover for this story. A link to her page is on my Bio. Check it out she does some_ _amazing_ _work._

 _And finally - This little chapter is dedicated to thephoenixandthedragon4ever, who has wanted to know from the start where Frigga was, and why the hell she let all this happen..._

* * *

Back on Asgard, Heimdall the Gatekeeper was waiting, with Odin, for the return of a very important party. At the request of her husband, Frigga, Queen of Asgard, had been on an extended diplomatic visit to Vanaheim. Accompanied by her escort, she was only now returning home after nearly three months absence.

Stepping gracefully from the newly repaired Bifrost, Frigga greeted her old friend Heimdall with a smile, before stepping forward to greet her husband.

"Odin, what a pleasant surprise, I did not expect you to meet me in person" she faltered, seeing the look on his face "Odin, is something wrong?"

As her escort stepped through the Bifrost behind her, Odin took her arm gravely. "My dear, I would speak with you on a most serious matter"

Leaving her escort to follow at a distance, the King and Queen of Asgard walked slowly across the gleaming bridge. Odin turned to face his wife "I know that even in Vanaheim, you have heard details of the events on Midgard, and of Loki's involvement"

His wife's serene beauty was marred by a frowning concern. "Indeed Odin. Had you not expressly instructed otherwise, I would have returned to Asgard immediately, but I understood that all is now as it should be. That Thor assisted the Midgardians in setting things to rights, and that he has brought Loki home." She put a hand on his arm. "I understand that he must be punished for what he did, but I am assuming that I may visit him in the cells? He is still our son, no matter what he has done"

Odin's face was grave. "It is more serious than that Frigga. I am afraid that you must prepare yourself for bad news." He paused for a moment looking over at the breathtaking view of Asgard, and the terrible drop into the Void between. Frigga's face was now very pale.

"Odin?"

"For his actions on Midgard, I stripped Loki of his magic, and his immortality, and returned him to Midgard as a mortal to make reparation for his crimes."

Frigga looked at him in horror. "You did what?"

Odin had known that this would be difficult, but at least it was not as bad as the truth. "Both his immortality and his magic could have been returned at some point in the future, had he proven worthy."

Picking up on the past tense, Frigga was as white as her robe. "Odin, I think it would be better if you told me very quickly..."

"I am so sorry Frigga. I am afraid that Loki attempted to escape from the Midgardian Prison where he was being held. He killed three Midgardians guards in the process, before they stopped him.

I am afraid that Loki is dead."

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Hours later, Frigga sat alone in her younger son's room. The servants were in the process of moving her things out of the chambers that she had shared with Odin since their marriage. It was not unknown for the King and Queen of Asgard to quarrel, even to fight.

But this was different.

In the warmth of an Asgardian summer, the heat had been sucked from the day, and frost lay shimmering on the grass in the gardens. Frigga could not even look at Odin, would not be in the same room with him...

Loki was dead, and as far as Frigga was concerned, Odin may as well have swung the axe himself. She was not blind to his faults, she acknowledged that justice must be done. But neither was she unaware of the damage that she and Odin between them had done to their youngest child.

But to send her son. HER son, down to a world where he would be universally hated and reviled, without even the protection of his immortality?

It would have been kinder to have executed him there and then. Here on Asgard where it would at least have been swift and merciful. For all but the vilest traitors were granted a clean death.

Loki had been her baby, hers where Thor had been Odin's from the moment he opened his eyes. Loki had ever been Thor's opposite, slender where Thor was broad, as dark as he was fair, with a fierce intellectual curiosity that his brother had ever lacked. She had begun to teach him magic, but he had far outstripped her very quickly, moving to the tutelage of others. But she had remained close to her sensitive and introspective youngest, taken pride in his strength as a mage, and his skills as a warrior, even though he was perpetually overshadowed in this matter by his brother. She only wished he could have been happier. As a child, he had been warm and loving, with a beautiful smile, and an infectious chuckle. She hadn't heard him truly laugh for a very long time.

She looked around at the clutter and detritus of his rooms. Bits and pieces of magical instruments on a work table in the corner, evidence of an unfinished project; several spears both hunting and ceremonial propped in the corner; a dagger, and a set of throwing knives next to the sharpening stone. A telescope and a cluster of other astronomy instruments stood near to the window, and everywhere there were books and papers in half a dozen different languages. The idea that all of this clutter, so utterly and uniquely Loki, would wait here for his return for all eternity was unbearable. Frigga laid down on her son's bed, wrapping her arms about his pillows and closed her eyes allowing her grief to overwhelm her.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note, I haven't said this for a while – I don't have any claim on either Thor, or Harry Potter, I just enjoy borrowing them sometimes._

 _Little bit of a fluffy filler chapter... More at the weekend, if I survive the rest of this week at work!_

* * *

Much to the surprise and amusement of the Hogwarts teaching staff, Hermione and her guest finally managed to show themselves in public for the first time since the term had ended. The Headmistress had informed the staff that Hogwarts had a visitor, giving him the pseudonym William Lawes to protect his identity. While it was good to get out and about, Hermione tried to keep contact with the other staff to a minimum to avoid too many questions about Loki's present lack of magic. The staff respected their privacy, but the young couple were so patently and obviously besotted with one another that they prompted indulgent smiles wherever they went.

Later that week, Hermione introduced Loki to the Hogwarts Library. The library of Asgard was one of the great wonders of the Nine Realms, but he had not been aware that such places also existed on Midgard, and especially not libraries dedicated almost exclusively to all elements of the study of magic. Watching the look of open wonder on his face, Hermione was reminded of a child in a toyshop. His love of books, and passion for learning matching hers, and throughout the rest of the summer, they could regularly be found there, exploring its mysteries together, books piled high around them on the tables, discussing theories and philosophy of magic, charms, herbology, potions and astronomy. He was particularly fascinated by the study of arithmancy and ancient runes, which appealed to his decidedly scientific mind. She also introduced him to Midgardian literature – of which he had only a basic knowledge.

One evening, the following week, having spent the day outside exploring the surrounding hills, they returned, to curl up in one of the library chairs, which Hermione transfigured into something big enough for the two of them. Hermione was flicking through a book of muggle poetry, reading her favourites aloud to Loki. He was listening, playing with her hair, and generally trying to distract her.

He was feeling much better now. His muscles and ribs no longer gave him any pain, and the skin on his back was healed, although he would likely carry the scars for the rest of his life. For the first time in centuries though he was happy, relaxed; and confident that the beautiful woman in his arms returned his feelings without hesitation or reservation. He knew in his heart that a future together would be complicated, but for now he was content to simply relax in the moment. No schemes or plots beyond the pleasantly erotic turn that his thoughts were taking for the night ahead.

Turning back to Hermione he ran a finger down her bare arm, enjoying the little hitch in her breath that followed and the way she trembled slightly at his touch, snuggling still closer. Turning her arm in his hands, he ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of her inner forearm, puzzled by little bumps and ridges that his fingers could detect, but his eyes could not see. He was suddenly aware that Hermione had stopped reading, had gone very still. He looked up, to find her watching him, her brown eyes suddenly wary.

"What is this? Is it a glamour?"

"Yes" she took a deep breath her hand on his cheek. "I will tell you, I promise, but not tonight, is that alright?"

Taking her hand in his, he pressed a kiss into her palm. "Very well – but I will hold you to your promise."

Rising from the chair, he drew her after him, and into his arms. They had the library to themselves, there was no need to be cautious about offending anyone.

So absorbed were they, they completely failed to hear a third person enter the library.

"I believe the modern muggle expression is 'get a room!'".

Loki may have lost his magic, but he still had nearly a thousand years of the finest warrior training the Nine Realms had to offer. Sneaking up on him was probably a very bad idea. Hermione had barely had time to register the familiar drawl behind her, before the owner let out a shriek that he would later absolutely deny was anything even close to girly. Peering around his shoulder, she found that Loki had Draco Malfoy pinned by the throat, against a bookshelf. The shelf wobbled precariously and Draco's feet were she noticed, a good six inches off the floor.

"Err, Lo – William – he's a friend – please put him down...now \- please"

Loki relaxed, lowering Draco to his feet carefully. "My apologies friend, you caught me unawares."

Draco rubbed his bruised throat, eyeing Loki dubiously, recognising him as the man he had seen in Hermione's rooms at the beginning of the school holidays . "So you're the one that's been keeping Hermione busy this summer. Are you also the one that upset her so much that she ended up spending the night with me?"

Loki whirled to face Hermione, his face white and tense. "Hermione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, unimpressed by either of them. "Draco, I'm sorry you were hurt, but really, do you have to regress back to fourth year? William, there is no need to look at me like that. Draco is a gay as a pink puffskein. He's just being an arse because you bruised his perfect pure blood skin. And yes - I did spend that night in his room – on the sofa. And I seem to remember that the reason I was there in the first place was because YOU were being an arse on that occasion. Can we start again please? And this time can you ATTEMPT to behave like adults and not a pair of stroppy teenagers."

"Draco Malfoy, Charms Professor, meet William Lawes a very old friend of mine."

The two men shook hands, warily. Draco eyed all six feet two of Loki with reluctant appreciation, winding up the 'camp' factor for the sheer hell of it. "Well I must say, I now understand why it is that Hermione's kept you confined to her bedroom for so long. If it were me, I don't think I would have ever let you out of bed"

Loki looked frankly terrified. Hermione decided that - funny though it might be to prolong this encounter - maybe now might be a good time to make an exit. Loki's reactions aside, Draco was very sharp and very observant, and she had no wish to start fielding difficult questions about who Loki was and what an apparently non magical person was doing at Hogwarts...

Hermione was still lecturing Loki on his behaviour by the time they returned to her room. To be fair, she had also made a mental note to do the same to Draco in the morning, but Loki was there and she had a load to get off her chest.

"I realise that you've spent heaven knows how long perfecting your warrior reflexes, but really – this is not Asgard! You can't go crashing around Hogwarts like a Neanderthal"

"A what!?"

Hermione searched for a better analogy. "Like Thor..."

"Ouch" Loki scowled ferociously. "I am nothing like that witless oaf"

Hermione glared at him. "Thor may have a tendency to crash around acting without thinking, but maybe you should be glad he does as he also seems to spend a great deal of that time pulling your royal arse out of the fire. You know what - I'm not even getting into that conversation right now. I'm going to take a shower."

She stomped irritably into the bathroom - slamming the doors behind her.

Loki scowled after her - the fact that she was right really didn't help at all. Now his plans for the evening were ruined.

Then he heard the shower running and smiled, as a very pleasant idea occurred to him. Maybe this evening wasn't a disaster after all. He had been accused of being as proud as Lucifer, but on this occasion, maybe an apology might be a good idea...

 _x-x-0-x-x_

One of the big indulgencies that Hermione had insisted on getting installed in her Hogwarts bathroom was a really decent shower. Standing under the hot water, she was forced to admit that maybe she had been a little hard on Loki. He had been through a lot recently, and Draco had crept up on them unawares. Turning into the spray, she remembered what they'd done, waking up together that first morning and her body tingled at the memory. Running soapy hands over smooth skin, she found herself getting aroused, thinking of his hands on her body.

"I'm sorry" Startled Hermione whirled round, nearly slipping over. There he was, as if in answer to her prayers, tall, handsome and wearing nothing but a towel. His expression was uncharacteristically humble. "You're right, I was being an arse. I'm sorry I scared your friend – although I don't mind admitting he probably scares me even more. And you were also right about Thor. I owe him not only my life, but my happiness – for bringing me here to you."

His green eyes slid over her, promising things that made her head swim and her legs go weak.

"Do you need a hand?"

She smiled up at him through her lashes. "I thought you'd never ask".

Split seconds later, he was pressed against her under the warm water, and he was kissing her, deep and desperate, his hands roaming her wet skin possessively. The effect was electrifying. Wrapping his arms around her she squealed as he lifted her easily off her feet, her legs wrapping around his waist. Balancing her back against the wall allowed him the easy access to her body that he craved, kissing his way down her neck with agonising patience, nibbling and sucking on her collarbone then inching down between her breasts, fingers finding one sensitive nipple, while his lips and tongue finally wrought havoc on the other.

Hermione's head slammed back against the wall with a cry, her hips pushing against him, in a desperate search for friction. His mouth and fingers were driving her mad, sensation racing through her body. She was desperate for him to touch her, but it was clear that Loki was in control tonight, and he was in no rush to move things on.

"Loki – please" she gasped.

Dragging his mouth away from her breast, his voice in her ear was low and rough with desire. "You know what they call me on Asgard? Hermione shook her head.

Loki smiled wolfishly. "Silver-Tongue. And it isn't only because I'm good at talking my way out of difficult situations..." His voice dropped to a whisper "Tell me Hermione - has anyone ever made you scream...?"

Five minutes later, Hermione was spread naked across her bed, finding out EXACTLY how Loki got his nickname...

And she screamed... and begged, and sobbed and moaned... and screamed.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's note. First a warning. Sexual Content at the beginning of this chapter. Fluff and shopping later..._

 _Secondly. Love and thanks to all those readers that have liked, favourited and reviewed this story. I try to reply to all of my reviews, but RL is a little hectic at the moment so please be patient. I really value your comments and I will get back to you very soon._

 _I don't want to beg for reviews – the fact that you lovely people are reading my story is enough to keep me happy, however I am still a very rookie writer, so any feedback you are able to give is very welcome._

 _Finally – I don't own any of the Thor or the Harry Potter characters._

* * *

The following day, Hermione bounced out of bed ridiculously early. She may have been feeling pleasantly sore, but she was also ridiculously happy, and full of energy. Moreover, she had plans for the day. She had to pick up some supplies for the new term, and they needed to get some essentials for Loki. At the moment he was getting by on whatever Hermione could conjure or transfigure from something else. It was time to go shopping.

"Loki"

"Mmmnn" Loki rolled over, pulling the pillow over his head.

"Loki wake up" he pulled the pillow a little tighter.

She huffed "Fine then" reaching a hand under the blankets. Loki shot up in bed with a yelp

"Minx!"

Hermione doubled over with giggles. "Well as you're awake" she said sweetly "you might as well get... LOKI!"

She really needed to remember how fast he could move. Once again she was pinned to the mattress, her brain shorting out completely as his mouth explored hers, one hand moving purposefully down her body, the other pinning her hands above her head. She gasped – arching off the bed as his fingers slid between her thighs his thumb finding that sensitive spot – a touch she craved. He broke the kiss, his eyes nearly black, feeling how ready she was for him already "Oh Gods Hermione".

With a shamelessly lecherous grin, he flipped them both over, sitting up against the headboard, pulling Hermione onto his lap. The night before had been all teasing and tormenting in the soft candlelight, prolonging their release as long as possible. This morning the room was flooded with morning sunlight, and they were too desperate to wait. Sinking down upon him with moan of pleasure, Hermione reached up to kiss him deeply, momentarily lost in the sensation.

"Hermione" his voice was ragged with strain

"Mmm hmm"

"Please move..."

Smiling wickedly she resisted the urge to tease him further. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he wrapping his arms around her body, they both settled into their rhythm. This was a new position for Hermione, but she loved it, loved the closeness, the intimacy, gazing straight into each other's eyes. With one hand in the small of her back, Loki bent her backwards onto his bent legs, so that his mouth could reach her breasts, while his fingers returned to her clitoris, sending Hermione to new heights. The change of position – hitting EXACTLY the right spot, combined with the additional sensations had Hermione seeing stars in seconds, she could feel her orgasm building with an almost unbearable speed and intensity. Feeling her tightening around him, feeling the muscles in her body tensing, Loki nipped at one of her nipples with his teeth, resisting the urge to bite down hard. As wound up as she was this was enough to send Hermione soaring off the edge, with Loki following, with a shout of triumph only seconds after her.

Completely spent, every muscle shaking, Hermione collapsed onto Loki's chest, nuzzling into his hair, her hand stroking the back of his neck, loving being so close to him. Without thinking, she dropped a kiss onto his jaw, "I love you" she murmured.

Loki went quite still.

Oh no, thought Hermione, it was probably a bit early for that.

Loki's fingers lifted her chin, so that he could look at her. His face was suddenly serious, but there was a look in his eyes that gave Hermione hope that she hadn't just ruined everything.

"Did you mean it?"

She nodded mutely. His serious expression give way to a smile of sheer wonder. "No one has ever said that to me before – other than my Mother of course, and that isn't quite the same thing." His fingers stroked her cheek "I don't think I'm quite ready to say it yet – but be patient, I may be older than you, but I'm horribly new at this." The idea that Loki could have lived for a thousand years and never had a woman truly fall in love with him seemed unbearably sad to Hermione. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on to him tightly, mentally promising herself that she would remember to tell him how much she loved him very often to make up for all the lost time.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

They did eventually make it out of bed – just rather later than originally planned. They could have taken the flue from Hermione's sitting room, but remembering Harry's first experience, she was a little worried about letting Loki loose. The consequences of his ending up in the wrong place, without magic, could be serious. Instead they walked through the grounds to the gate, where Hermione apparated them both to the Leaky Cauldron. She had had some concerns about whether Loki would be able to side-along apparate, but there were no problems (other than the interesting shade of green he turned), Hermione suspected that this was because he was inherently magical, even without his powers.

Loki was fascinated by Diagon Alley, particularly Flourish and Blotts of course, where, like Hermione, he could have happily stayed all day. They finally dragged themselves away, having only bought three times more than they intended.

Next Hermione visited the Apothecary, where she placed a huge order for potions ingredients for the forthcoming term. The owner was happy to arrange for the order to be delivered to Hogwarts, and offered to deliver their book order at the same time, an offer they were happy to take him up on.

Relieved of their purchases, they stopped briefly in the ice cream parlour for coffee before exiting into Muggle London. Loki had not been to London since the middle ages, and was fascinated by the way the city had changed although their trip on the Underground was so traumatic that Hermione resolved to splurge on a taxi on the way back.

There was a brief spat in Oxford Street, when Loki realised that they were going to buy him clothes. He refused flatly to allow Hermione to spend any more money on him. It was bad enough, he said, that she had given up her time to care for him, bought books, coffee and everything else, she wasn't going to buy him clothes too. It was only after Hermione promised faithfully that she would keep a note of what she spent, so that he could pay her back in the future, that he consented to their buying some basics. Sometimes, thought Hermione wryly, that royal dignity was a right royal pain.

In fairly short order, they managed to put together a basic wardrobe, with only a few disagreements. At first Loki insisted on formal clothes, but when Hermione pointed out the cost of even the cheapest suit (like Loki would be seen dead in anything that didn't come from Savile Row or Bond Street), he agreed to stick with casuals, two pairs of jeans and a pair of plain dark trousers. To this were added a selection of t shirts and shirts, a light jumper and a hooded sweatshirt for when the nights got colder. Loki was most perplexed by the choice of boxers ,briefs or boxer briefs, so in the end Hermione made the decision for him. She had never seen the Asgardian equivalent, so had only her personal preference to worry about. He still had his Asgardian boots, but Hermione threw in a pair of "smart" black shoes, since Loki appeared to have a preference for formal dress, and splurged on a pair of dark green Converse just because she liked them and they were his favourite colour.

Thinking about it, it might be worth getting him a set of wizards robes if he was going to be at Hogwarts for any length of time, but that would wait for another day.

Eventually they returned, to the Leaky Cauldron, where they stopped for a late lunch. Before they went home though, they had one more call to make.

After some discussion with Draco, Hermione had finally managed to coax the name of his hairdresser from him. Draco had agreed to make the necessary introductions, so at 3pm Hermione knocked at the door of a most discrete establishment, at the very select end of the Alley. Loki emerged, an hour later, looking like a new man. Gone were the shaggy black locks, reaching way below his shoulders. His hair had been cut to just above his collar, and thinned out so that it curled lightly into the back of his neck. He wasn't sure why so much time and effort had gone into something as straightforward as a haircut, but Hermione appeared to be very happy so that was what mattered. Draco had apparently instructed the establishment to put the cost on his bill. Hermione made a mental note to thank him later – although she couldn't help thinking that the new look Loki might find Draco even more difficult than he did already...

Apparating back to the school, laden with bags wasn't easy, but they managed it without incident. At the gate, Hermione summoned Kreacher, and asked him to take the shopping back to their room. The House Elf obliged with a click of his fingers, offering to transport Hermione and Loki at the same time. As Loki was still looking a little peaky from their trip from the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione felt it might be wise to decline his offer. Instead, they walked back up to the castle in the sunshine. After a few minutes though, Hermione noticed that Loki was starting to flag a little. It had been a busy day for someone that was still recuperating, moreover it was hot, especially for a Frost Giant, and face it, neither of them got much sleep last night. The second half of the walk was hard work, and Loki let out a sigh of relief as they finally entered the shade of the castle's main entrance. Before they could ascend to Gryffindor Tower, they were forced to sit for a while in the Great Hall, which was at least blessedly cool. Hermione accosted a passing house elf and whispered something in her ear. Bowing the elf disappeared with a snap of her fingers. Hermione turned back to Loki, who was looking hot and mulish.

"Come on, let's go up"

Loki sighed heavily standing up wearily. "I _hate_ not having my magic." His green eyes were stormy "I never even thought about controlling my temperature until now. It's like having my hands cut off."

Hermione took one of those hands in hers. "We'll get it back. There must be a way to unblock it."

"No!" he shot back desperately. "You don't understand. I don't have it any more. My magic is in a crystal globe in Odin's treasure vault and there it will stay until Muspelheim freezes over." He stood still for a moment, eyes dark and hurt, lost in his memories. "I stood in the middle of the Throne Room in chains and he literally ripped it out of me. I thought I was going to die." He slammed his fist into the table in sheer frustration before dropping to the bench seat his head in his hands. Perching on the table beside him, Hermione ran her hand over his hair. He looked up at her, his eyes full of despair.

"I don't know whether I can go on like this Hermione. I'm not some street corner conjurer. I'm a mage, my magic is woven into every part of me. Without it I'm only a fragment of myself. I hate it!"

Hermione took his hand in hers, examining his bruised knuckles with a frown. She had had no idea of this, believing that his magic was only blocked. The thought of what he had been through made something within her curl with a cold fierce rage she had never felt before. But that would wait. Right now she suspected that being very tired and very hot was not helping matters. She needed to get him upstairs.

"Come on. This calls for one of Midgards finest creations..." Taking his hand, she led the reluctant Loki back to Gryffindor Tower.

Arriving at their rooms, the house elf from the Great Hall was just coming out of the bathroom.

Feeling decidedly out of sorts, Loki scowled at the poor elf "What in Helheim is going on?"

Hermione smiled serenely. "Through that door you will find a nice cool bath. Go get that gorgeous body of yours into it, you need to cool off. I'll be in in a minute."

"You don't like cold baths."

"I wasn't planning on getting into it" she gave him a push toward the bathroom. "Bathtub– Go!"

Five minutes later Hermione sauntered into the bathroom wearing nothing but one of Loki's new shirts, carrying a large bowl with a spoon. Loki, in the bath, and feeling decidedly better eyed her long bare legs appreciatively and smiled.

"My shirt looks good on you"

Hermione perched on a stool by the bath and gestured to the bowl. "Chocolate Ice Cream! Food of the Gods"

Loki eyed the contents of the bowl dubiously. "I can say with absolute certainty that such an abomination would never be served in Asgard..."

Hermione shrugged. "Suit yourself." Taking a spoonful, sliding the creamy dessert off the spoon, she licked her lips appreciatively. Her look of ecstasy spoke volumes. Loki's eyes glazed over as he watched her swallow.

"Oh very well. I will try a spoonful if it will please you..." the expression on his face was both stunned, and positively sinful. "This stuff is AMAZING. We have a sweet water ice in Asgard, but absolutely nothing like this." He leaned toward the spoon eagerly. "Can I have some more?" Hermione laughed, and dripped the chocolate onto the end of his nose, pausing to kiss it off.

 _This was originally one chapter, but it was ridiculously long, so I h_ ave _had to divide it - so you get three chapters this weekend rather than two..._


	15. Chapter 15

Having cooled off, not to mention polishing off the better part of the bowl of ice cream, Loki was feeling much better, but Hermione still insisted that they rested for a while, so they returned to the sitting room, curling up in a chair, not ready to sleep, but happy to just relax together. As Loki ran his fingers down her bare legs, Hermione was reminded of her promise in the Library.

"Was Asgard aware of what was going on here ten years ago?"

Loki frowned, it wasn't that he didn't want to know, but seeing Hermione in his shirt and not much else had turned his mind, inevitably, in a much more pleasant direction. "I'm not sure" he said. "What happened?"

"There was a great battle here. A dark wizard, and his army tried to take the school. We fought him, and won, but the cost was terrible... no, I think I have to go further back than that.

Before I was born, there was a young man at this school by the name of Tom Riddle. He was an orphan, descended on his mother's side from a family of dark wizards, going all the way back to your friend Salazar Slytherin.

After his mother died, Tom was sent to a muggle orphanage, where he was always different, always the dangerous odd one out. Knowing he was different, but not really knowing why. The other children feared him, and he encouraged that fear by playing mean tricks on them.

When he was eleven, he received a visit from a very strange man indeed. This man confirmed what Tom Riddle had always known – he was indeed different. He told him about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and told him he was a wizard - that he had a place there if he wanted it. But he also told him that the sort of behaviour he had been getting away with at the orphanage, would not be tolerated at the school.

Tom Riddle was a great success at Hogwarts as far as most people were concerned, but the man who had first visited him, Professor Dumbledore, who went on to be my headmaster here, never trusted him.

During his time here, Riddle became obsessed with the concept of blood purity, the reason that Slytherin had left Hogwarts to come to Asgard all those years ago. It was Slytherin's belief that wizards were infinitely superior to those without magic, and that it was the destiny of the pure blood wizard to rule lesser races. But the true bane of Riddle's obsession was the muggle born witch or wizard. Those who came randomly from entirely non magical families.

People like me, people unworthy, in both his and Slytherin's opinion, to study magic. They called us mudbloods."

Loki was very still, his eyes shadowed, clearly the parallels in this story were not lost on him.

"During his time here, Riddle made friends, a group of friends that would, in the future become his inner circle. They called themselves the Death Eaters. But Riddle had one weakness. He was terrified of his own mortality, of having to one day face the consequences of his actions. In his final year here, he discovered a very dark piece of magic called a horcrux. A horcrux is a piece of a soul, trapped in an object. To split one's soul requires an act of great violence, the murder of an innocent, and the soul is forever weakened, but by creating this horcrux, the wizard becomes, in essence, immortal. Making one is bad enough, Riddle, or Voldemort as he liked to call himself, made seven.

For years, Voldemort and his followers created a reign of terror. Professor Dumbledore brought together a group called the Order of the Phoenix, to fight against him. Two of their members were a young couple, called James and Lilly Potter. They had a one year old son, Harry...

Over the rest of the afternoon, Hermione told Loki everything. About her normal middle class muggle upbringing, and the moment on her eleventh birthday, when everything changed. Of coming to Hogwarts, and entering an entirely unfamiliar world, but discovering that she had a talent for it.

She had been aware of a theoretical prejudice against muggle borns from the first – she was, after all a voracious reader, and had spent a great deal of time researching her new world, but it was not until the Basilisk was released on Hogwarts in her second year that she came up against the reality of pure blood prejudice. A prejudice, that followed her the way to that fateful night, at Malfoy Manor."

"Malfoy?" broke in Loki, frowning, trying to place the name.

"Draco's father. Draco was there too, but even though he and Harry had been enemies from the very start, when we were captured, he refused to betray us. He had been brainwashed his whole life, but he was utterly miserable and scared to death by this stage. He was in way over his head, and just wanted it to be over. The leader there was Voldemort's second in command, an insane monster called Belletrix Lestrange." Even now, ten years later, the name had lost none of its power, and feeling her shudder, Loki's arms tightened around her.

With a murmur of wandless magic, Hermione lifted the glamour on her forearm. Without its protection, the word "MUDBLOOD" etched deeply into her arm by a madwoman, was clearly visible.

"They tortured me. Not just with this, but also with the _Cruciatus_ Curse. Probably the most fiendish spell ever invented. It fools the brain into believing that every single one of your nerve endings is screaming in pain. Yet there is no actual, physical damage, beyond sore muscles from the convulsions. Eventually, either your heart or your mind gives out, or you tell them what they want to know. Fortunately I was rescued before any of those options occurred."

From then on, she told him the story in detail. Their escape on the back of a white dragon, their return to Hogwarts and the final battle. Of Harry's sacrifice and eventual triumph, and of those she had lost.

Afterwards, she slept a little curled up in his arms. Loki watching over her. Whatever happened, he thought, he would make this work. All his life he had been his own worst enemy. Not this time. Even if it meant living a normal, magic free, mortal life with her, he would make it work.

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Later that evening, she awoke, rising she held out her hand out to Loki.

"It's nice and cool now. Are you up for a walk?"

They walked down to Hogsmeade village. On the way they paused at the memorial to the more than fifty wizards and witches that had died that day. They wandered for a while among the graves, Hermione sharing stories of those that she had known well, conjuring flowers to leave behind, for Fred Weasley , for Nymphadora Tonks, and for Remus Lupin.

"They had a son," she said sadly. "Teddy – Harry's godson. He doesn't remember them at all. He's been brought up by his Grandmother, Harry, and most of the Weasley family. Hard to believe that he'll be at Hogwarts himself soon."

Hermione and Loki stood for a moment in the soft coolness of the summer evening, taking in the atmosphere of the peaceful spot. Eventually, Hermione shivered slightly, as the last of the warmth faded. Even in the middle of summer, the heat rarely lingered into the evening this far north. Loki pulled her against him to warm her up.

"Come on" Hermione said with a smile... "I'm starving, let's go and see Madam Rosmerta"

They had an excellent meal at the Three Broomsticks, with Madam Rosmerta making a tremendous fuss of them – well of Loki anyway, Hermione acknowledged wryly. After all, she may be a war hero, but she'd been around for years and well, Loki did tend to attract female attention. Particularly tonight, she thought smugly, as she watched his startled expression when he received a warm goodbye hug from their hostess. In one of his new pairs of jeans which made his legs look endless, a slim fitting black shirt, emphasising his broad shoulders and lean build, and with his new, stylish haircut, her earlier thoughts about Mr GQ didn't seem far wrong.

Walking back up to the school, arms round one another took a while, pausing every now and then, to admire the view, to look at the stars, or just to hold one another close, Loki was very quiet. Eventually Hermione became a little concerned, and questioned him...

"I keep thinking about everything you told me this afternoon Hermione. About all the things you went through when you were little more than a child. The prejudice, being petrified, that dreadful Umbridge woman, and that poor lad dying. You were fighting these people when you were what – sixteen, seventeen. Then leaving school and living rough for a year, being tortured, the battle and everything that came after it. And how you came to this, to emerge from it all with your faith in people still intact, with the goodness still shining out of you. That was the first thing I noticed about you, that first night, when I woke up from my nightmare to find you there. I remember thinking that you had the kindest eyes I'd ever seen.

You saved me – you and - Thor really, because I would never have found you without him. Listening to your story today, there was so much of me in Tom Riddle. He ended up dead, his soul shredded, unloved, un-mourned. But thanks to you, I have a second chance. And I'm not going to miss out on this one."

That night, he took her to bed and made love to her more slowly and sweetly than she ever believed possible. At the end, as they sobbed out their final gasps of pleasure together, he pushed the damp hair back from her forehead, and looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you" he whispered, into the night.


	16. Chapter 16

_Okay, enough of the frivolity and fluff, time to catch up with Thor, and start moving this story forward..._

 _Thank you for your patience. I hope you're still hanging in there._

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sipped a cup of tea behind her desk, and wished privately that her professional reputation did not preclude her indulging in something stronger in the middle of the afternoon. Despite his promise to stay away from the Castle, protecting his brother's location, Prince Thor was once again seated in her office. His concern over his brother's outburst in the gardens had been such that he had felt the need to return once again to assure himself that all was well.

"So you are telling me that you have not had sight of either of them since we spoke last Madam?" Thor's concern was palpable, Minerva sighed.

"That is the case Prince Thor. However, I took the liberty of confiding entirely in one of my most trusted colleagues here at the school, a wise and most discreet Centaur by the name of Firenze. He is on the teaching staff, and is moreover a close friend of Professor Granger. He assures me that he both seen and spoken to them, as have a number of my colleagues, and whilst he refused to break any confidences, he assured me that there was nothing to fear. However, since I am convinced that only visual proof will reassure you, I have asked one of the house elves to see if he can locate them, and I expect to hear back from him any second. In the meantime – please try and relax, and drink your tea."

No sooner had she finished than a sharp crack announced the arrival of the house elf in question. A tiny creature with a bulbous nose, dressed in the Hogwarts uniform whispered nervously into the Headmistress' ear.

"Excellent Miggs, thank you very much. I would be most grateful if you could keep this between ourselves." Almost bursting with pride, the little elf bowed low, then disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

The Headmistress rose with an enigmatic smile – "If you would like to follow me..." She led Thor up the steps in her office to the observation tower above, which gave a commanding view of much of the grounds in the front of the castle. Taking a moment to orientate herself, she pointed down to the extensive herb gardens. Stepping up behind her, Thor looked down and his mouth fell open in shock.

Casually dressed in a loose shirt of his favourite green and dark jeans, Thor's brother, was a world away from the tense, furious figure of his last visit. Whatever had happened since then, things had clearly been settled to everyone's satisfaction. Walking hand in hand, Hermione and Loki were completely oblivious to anyone or anything outside the golden bubble that seemed to surround them. Pausing near a warm stone wall, Loki reached up easily to pick a deep crimson rose from one of the many fragrant blooms that grew there. Tucking it behind Hermione's ear he drew her into his arms, kissing her passionately in the warm sunshine. Breaking apart a few moments later, she whispered something in his ear, then she ran, laughing, across the lawns towards the lake. Shaking his head, his laughter mingling with hers, Loki gave chase. Catching her in the shade of a box hedge, he dropped onto the thick smooth turf bank, pulling her down on top of him for another kiss, his hands buried in her curls, flipping them both, he leaned over her, seeking to deepen the kiss still further, until they grew careless of time and place. Leaving the idyllic sight, feeling like a peeping tom, Thor turned away, giving the lovers their privacy.

Shaking his head in wonder, he turned to the Headmistress as they descended back to her office. "This is little short of a miracle Madam. In all of the long years that I have know my brother, I cannot remember ever seeing him like that. The Gods know that his liaisons have ever been few and far between, more often than not a discrete arrangement with an older married woman missing her husband's attentions. Never have I seen him so relaxed, so happy – so obviously and openly in love." His face split into a broad grin. "I must admit, when I brought my brother to you, I did hope that such a thing might happen – for it seemed to me that your Professor Granger felt some tenderness for him from the very first. From what I have seen of the lady, she is worthy of him."

"Indeed she is. You remember the terrible battle that took place here, a little over ten years ago, when the forces of Lord Voldemort were finally vanquished, and much of the castle destroyed."

"How could I forget" responded Thor gravely, "many good Midgardians died that day, many of them too young to be accounted warriors. Their leader was little more than a boy himself was he not – Potter as I recall?"

"That is correct. Harry Potter was the leader – The Boy Who Lived they called him. The only wizard ever to survive TWO _avada kedavra_ curses, one of which he received on that fateful night. But he was accompanied in his endeavours – almost from the very first, by his two best friends and staunchest supporters, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger. The Golden Trio as they became known."

"The young lady that has captured my brother's heart – a warrior in that great battle?" Thor's face was full of wonder. "Truly, she is indeed worthy of him. How has such a prize not been claimed? What are the young men of Midgard thinking of."

"I don't believe that I would be breaking any confidences when I say that Hermione's ferocious intelligence and love of learning has often set her apart from her peers, and proved rather intimidating to the young men of her acquaintance. There were a couple of relationships with young wizards, but no one has ever engaged her brain and her heart in equal measure. In addition, Hermione is a young woman of great passion and independence, and many of the young pureblood wizards in our world find this difficult. If your brother has managed to claim her heart, I believe that it may be to both of their advantages, for she will love him with the exclusivity and security that he craves, while he will challenge and support her at every step. Truly a match made in heaven." She paused, realising that her guest had lost his look of pleased wonder, and was looking grave.

"This is indeed good news, the best possible for Loki, but this means that I can no longer delay what I have long known must be done." Seeing the elder woman's enquiring glance, he continued. "During the days of my exile in what you know as New Mexico, I too met a remarkable young woman of your realm – Jane Foster, an astrophysicist. I believe that she would be firm friends with Hermione Granger for both are strong, passionate young women of keen intelligence and great determination. It is my belief that Jane possesses not only my heart, but all the qualities that I would seek in my Queen. But like Hermione, she is mortal, and without the consent of the All Father, she cannot be given the apples of Iddun which would grant her immortality. Her days slip away too fast, and now that my brother's heart is also at risk, I know that I must act, and very quickly"

The Headmistress looked at him over the tops of her glasses. "What must you do?"

"I must take the throne from my father, for the sake of my brother and I, and the women we have given our hearts to."


	17. Chapter 17

A few days after Thor's visit, Hermione tapped on the Headmistress' door just after breakfast. She had reluctantly dragged herself away from Loki, who looked as though he was up for sleeping all morning - given his assurances previously that Asgardians didn't need as much sleep as mortals, the irony of his love for their bed was not lost on her.

"Good morning Hermione, please, come in. I'm glad you dropped by, I was going to ask Kreacher to give you a note this afternoon." Professor McGonagall's eyes twinkled, and Hermione knew that she was only too aware of the events of the last weeks. To her chagrin, she could feel herself blushing.

"I'm sorry Professor, I haven't been around much this holiday. I've been ..."

"Distracted?" the Professor's normally sharp eyes were bright with pleasure. "Don't look so uncomfortable my dear. I couldn't be more delighted for you both. And he really is.." she continued with an appreciative look in her eye that Hermione absolutely refused to classify "... an _extraordinarily_ handsome young man. Just one thing though. In order to protect their privacy, all teacher's accommodation at Hogwarts has powerful and ancient silencing charms built into the walls. But..."

Hermione was definitely blushing now. "But...?" she quavered.

The Professor was trying very hard not to smirk. "They don't work if you leave your window open..."

"Oh God" groaned Hermione, her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, I promise it won't happen again"

Minerva McGonagall chuckled, but finally took pity on her and changed the subject. "Would you like some tea my dear?"

The two colleagues chatted for a while, about this and that before finally, a little later, Hermione managed to get around to the reason for her visit. "I actually need to ask your advice, and maybe Professor Dumbledore's, about an issue concerning Loki."

Professor McGonagall turned around and coughed sharply. "Albus! You can stop pretending to be asleep now!" The portrait of Professor Dumbledore opened his eyes guiltily.

"Ah, good morning Miss Granger. How may I be of assistance?"

Smiling warmly at her former Headmaster, Hermione put down her teacup. "Something has come to light recently which is causing me some concern – about Loki." She began. "As you may or may not be aware, before Odin sent him to..." She took a deep breath, even now with him whole and safe and happy upstairs, she had difficulties speaking of it "...to that awful place, he, well... I had assumed that he blocked Loki's magic. That it was still there, just not functioning. But a few days ago, I discovered I was wrong."

"Odin didn't block Loki's magic, he literally and brutally ripped it out of him. It's in a crystal globe in Odin's treasure vault as we speak."

The past and present Heads of Hogwarts were stunned into silence as Hermione continued. "Loki truly thought he was going to die there and then, but he survived the experience. Beyond the psychological effects of living without the magic that he's had for over a thousand years, what are the implications of this?"

Professor McGonagall's face was blank with shock. Professor Dumbledore looked grave, thinking for some moments before he spoke.

"Well the good news my dear, is that your young man must be truly exceptional to have survived all of his recent experiences. The fact that he has made it this far is very positive, and gives us more time, but I cannot conceal from you Hermione, that this is very serious. A mage, such as this Prince of yours, effectively runs on magic. It is how he can, at a pinch, survive almost indefinitely without normal sustenance. His body uses magic the way everyone else uses food and water..

Unfortunately, Loki's power source has now been removed. This is only a guess, for I have never come across this before, but I would estimate that he has about another four to five months before his "supply" becomes seriously compromised. It is certainly impossible that he could function for longer than a year without it, and it will probably be significantly less than that."

Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes met hers, full of unspoken sympathy.

" The sad fact is, Miss Granger, that unless we can get his magic back, Loki will die within the year – probably less..."

Hermione dropped back into her chair, beyond shock. She was numb – cold, and everything seemed to be coming from a very long way away. This could not be happening. After all this, after all he had been through... after all they had been through...

A pair of strong hands caught hers firmly. Professor McGonagall was crouched in front of her, face concerned.

"My dear, we must have faith" she said sounding almost maternal. "I spoke to Prince Thor very recently and it is my belief that he has both his and his brother's futures well in hand. I am certain that the restoration of Loki's powers will feature in those plans."

The elderly witch rose briskly. "Nonetheless, we cannot leave this to chance. I will find a way to communicate with Asgard, to make Prince Thor aware of these developments, although I must take care to ensure that my message does not fall into the wrong hands. It would be disastrous if that father of his found out that Loki was alive and well at the moment." She paused for a moment, then called the house elf, Miggs to her.

"Miggs, would you be so very kind as to go to the owlery for me please. I need to know whether there is such a thing as a Raven there among the owls. It will probably be wearing a scarlet band on its neck." She turned back to Hermione, who was still looking very white. "It occurs to me that Prince Thor may well have considered the possibility that we might need to communicate with him urgently."

 _x-x-0-x-x_

Utterly numb, Hermione left the Headmistress' office to return to Gryffindor Tower. She had already resolved not to tell Loki of his possible fate until she knew more. Standing alone in an empty corridor, the unfairness of it choked her, until she could hardly breath - that Loki should have been alone this long, and been through so much. That they had only just found one another, that they had a real chance of being happy, and now this...

"Hermione?"

As surely as if she had called to him, Loki was at the other end of the corridor. She couldn't hide anything from him – she turned away, fists clenched, desperately trying to compose herself, but the roiling grief and anger wouldn't be subdued. The next thing she knew she was wrapped in a pair of warm strong arms.

For a moment she resisted. Then the tears came. She clung to his shirt, in the shelter of his arms, shaking with the storm of emotions that she could no longer contain. How long they stood there Hermione had no idea, but eventually the tears subsided leaving her drained and empty.

Loki drew her to a nearby window seat, which she sank onto gratefully.

"You went to see your old Headmaster didn't you? About my magic. You've been revving yourself up for this ever since I told you" She nodded silently, still too overwhelmed to speak. He sighed. "Not good news I take it. How long do I have?"

"A year, maybe less..." her voice was barely a whisper "if we can't get your magic back."

Loki took a deep breath. "Will it hurt?" Such a simple question for such a big thing...

Hermione's voice shook ominously. "I don't think so. He thinks you may have another four or five months before you start feeling the effects, after which you will just gradually – run out of power I suppose."

He took her hands in his. "So I can stay with you. Nothing awful is going to happen"

Hermione looked at him as if he hadn't been listening. "Awful – yes Loki, you'll..." her words failed her at that point. "But Professor McGonagall thinks that Thor is working on something..."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to hold my breath Hermione. I realise that Thor rescued me, brought me here, and I am really grateful, but the only way that this ends well for me is if he takes the throne from Odin, and he would never choose me over Odin. He is bound to him by love and duty and honour – and blood... No – we're on our own sweetheart."

He drew her to her feet, brushing the residual tears from her face. "I think of it this way. My destiny was to die of thirst and exposure as an infant, or to die screaming and alone in the cave. Instead, I get a year with you, and a quiet and peaceful death. My only regret will be leaving you alone. Other than that, I don't feel hard done by at all..."

He kissed her, sweet and tender. "Come on – you promised we could walk down to Hogsmeade today. I want to go to Honeydukes..."

Hermione shook her head. "You are such a child sometimes. Let me go and get my bag" Loki reached up as though to pluck something from the air, then realised what he was doing, dropping his arm with a huff. "You stay here, I'll go"

Watching him walk away from her, Hermione looked out of the window at the white clouds scudding across the summer sky.

"Please Thor – don't let him down...please don't let him die..."


	18. Chapter 18

_Apologies for the lack of note in the last chapter. The response to this story has been far far better than I ever anticipated, and I thank each and every one of you. Only a few more chapters left now. It's time for Thor to step up and sort things out..._

 _And a little shameless plug here. I have just published an entirely unrelated and mindlessly smutty little one shot called We'll Always Have Paris. I know that not everyone reading this is going to be up for a little Sirius/Loki smut, but if this could be your thing, give it a go, I'd love to know what you think._

 _I do not make any money from this. I have no claim on any of the characters from Thor or Harry Potter - and I am sure I am doing Odin a grave injustice in this story. But it's my sandbox I'm playing in so why not..._

* * *

Two days after Professor Dumbledore's bombshell, their potential saviour, was striding briskly through the still icy gardens of the Royal Palace of Asgard in search of his mother. Professor McGonagall's letter clutched in his hand. He needed to know exactly how much of recent events his mother was aware of, and would moreover, probably need her support if things did not go to plan.

He found her, as he had suspected, in a corner of one of the walled gardens, on a seat which had long been a favourite of both hers and his brother's. He stopped, sharply. His mother had ever had a preference for pale colours, and soft, informal hairstyles. Today however, she was clad starkly, in a simple black gown. Her beautiful pale hair was coiled very plainly in the back of her neck and similarly covered with a fine black veil. She wore none of her usual jewellery and ornaments, and looked, he thought with a sudden feeling of panic, almost old.

Hearing his footsteps, she looked up slowly, as if it was an effort. "Thor my dear" her smile was a ghost of its usual brightness. "I didn't know you were back. I am so very glad to see you." But she made no effort to rise to greet him, something that was so unlike his mother that Thor's concern grew further. Abandoning ceremony, he dropped to the grass beside the seat, as he had been wont to do since he was a little boy, wincing at the chill dampness.

Did she know what his father had done to Loki? Was this the reason for her behaviour?

"Mother," he said gently "what is it that ails you?"

She looked at him bleakly. "I mourn for your brother Thor. To perish in conflict is the Asgardian way. But not to be shot down, stripped of magic and immortality, to die like a dog in a Midgardian prison." She shook her head sadly. "I know what Loki was Thor. I know of all the trouble he caused, all the wrong he did. but, he is still the son of my heart if not of my body. I try to console myself with the knowledge that he may be at peace, but I had not yet given up hope that he may yet have found his peace in this world" A single tear ran down her cheek, and her hands trembled.

Thor reached up, took her hands in his. "Mother, I can tell you that Loki is alive and well on Midgard, even as we speak now. And moreover, he is closer to simple happiness than I have ever seen him." The look of mingled bewilderment and joy on his mother's face warmed his heart. Frigga clutched his hands tightly. Above him, a single ray of sunshine pierced through the clouds for the first time since her return to Asgard.

"Thor, are you sure of this? Where is he?"

So absorbed was Thor, in his mother's joy, that he nearly missed the stealthy footsteps behind him.

"Yes Thor. Where is he?"

Odin. Thor had known that he would be aware of his return, would not be able to resist finding out how much Thor knew.

What had happened to him? thought Thor sadly. Is this what occurs when great age and great power finally take their toll on even the strongest of men? There was a strange look in his father's single visible eye, something cold and deeply unsettling. Was Odin's mind slipping? Was that the reason for his barbarous treatment of his youngest son?

Rising from the grass, Thor stood close to his mother, carefully ensuring that his back was to the wall, and his eyes on his father. Knowing now that this was the moment of truth. "Father, you didn't tell either mother, or myself what truly happened to Loki did you?"

Years of experience in battle made him aware that the small group of court officials, carefully selected, had gathered as instructed - a little to the left, out of Odin's field of vision. Good. If things went according to plan he would require witnesses.

Odin's eyes flickered, then hardened. "As I informed your mother, the little bastard died trying to break out of a Midgardian prison. They burned his body the same day. On Midgard they know what to do with the rubbish." Thor's temper, slow to rise, blazed into life.

"You Lie!" he snarled, furious. "You didn't send him to Midgard at all did you FATHER?" He turned back to his mother, stepping away from her, as electricity crackled around him. Above the Palace walls, the black clouds gathered, lit from beneath with electricity. Inhabitants of Asgard, knowing the signs, took cover.

Back in the gardens, Thor stalked like a tiger around his father, Mjolnir in hand. "He waited until he could be certain that we were both out of the way before he passed judgement. He sent Loki, in chains, and without his powers, in the care of a group of guards, picked I suspect, because they all had a grudge against him." Thor's face was dark with fury by now. "They had five days to _amuse themselves_ before they reached their destination. And knowing where he was going, Loki had five days to consider what lay before him, five days to consider the appalling death that you had condemned him to"

Thor turned back to Frigga, hating what he was about to tell her. "He sent him to the Cave."

Frigga's scream of rage and pain was heart rending.

"You sent MY SON to the serpent?" Her eyes flashed in fury, and even Odin took a step backwards. Frigga took a breath, clutching at the frayed edges of her control. "Odin. Please tell me Thor is mistaken." She was calm. Too calm

Thor was suddenly very tired. "Loki is safe mother. I rescued him, took him somewhere he would never be found. But not before he had been chained below that accurséd serpent for the best part of a week." He hefted Mjolnir with satisfaction. "That cave will claim no more victims. The snake is dead".

Frigga collapsed back onto the seat, her face so pale, her lips were grey with shock. "Loki!" she gasped brokenly. After a moment - trying to control herself, she turned back to Odin. "Just tell me why – why would you do something so senselessly cruel? He deserved to be punished. But he was not in his right mind. He did not deserve that"

Odin's single eye was utterly mad. And terrifyingly cold. "The boy was a runt, a curse. His destiny was to die on the ice and snow of Jotenheim, not to bring pain and disgrace to Asgard. What I took, I gave back. In breaking him, I break the curse that he brought upon us"

Frigga's face was blank with rage and shock. For one terrifying moment, Thor feared that his mother would kill Odin where he stood. Gungnir and his vast store of power not withstanding. Frigga was ferociously protective of both of her sons, but particularly Loki - and she would never, ever have allowed Odin to do what he had done had she been present at the time. She would, Thor had no doubt, have seen Odin dead and Asgard in ashes around him first. But this was not time for blind vengeance, however much they both craved it. The taking of a throne needed to be done properly, according to the laws of Asgard, before witnesses, if civil war was to be avoided. He put a restraining hand on his mother's arm.

Thor took a deep breath, for the thing that he knew now, without a doubt, he must do. This conversation had only served to convince him that he was doing the right thing. He beckoned his group of witnesses forward, to ensure that they were within sight and hearing of the proceedings.

"Odin Borson. I Thor Odinson, son of your blood and your heir acknowledged, do hereby lay claim to the throne of Asgard, the title of All Father, the Spear Gungnir and all powers, rights and responsibilities therein. I claim this as is my right under Asgardian Law and by tradition."

Thor looked Odin in the eye and hefted Mjolnir in his right hand. The threat was unmistakeable although his voice was soft.

"Don't make me kill you for it Father."

Odin's face was expressionless. His right hand opened, and Gungnir fell to the floor.

When Odin offered no resistance, Thor called his guard, who had been waiting, just out of sight. "Escort my Lord Father up to his chambers. Treat him with the utmost respect, but do not, under any circumstances, let him leave without my express and personal orders."

As Odin was led away under guard, Thor turned back to his mother, and offered his arm to escort her inside. Loki was safe where he was for the time being. Before he could set things to rights for his brother, he first needed to put Asgard in order. But how long his mother would be prepared to wait was another matter entirely.

In the gardens, the sun emerged and the frost – finally – began to retreat.


	19. Chapter 19

_Things are starting to come together now. Three chapters today, then hopefully the final two around the middle of the week - I'm still doing some last minute re-writes. Ms Kitty Black, my incredibly patient Beta, despairs of the fact that I am really really bad at letting chapters go. First and third chapter are a bit shorter this time, the middle one is longer._

 _Thank you again to all those lovely people that review, favourite and follow this story. Once this is finished, I will be looking to start posting the sequel, which takes place almost two years after the events of this story._

 _As always, I make no money from this story, and have no claim on either Harry Potter or Thor._

* * *

It had been almost a month since the momentous events in the palace of Asgard, but news of those events had yet to reach the residents of Hogwarts Castle, where the forthcoming beginning of the school year was the primary source of concern for most of the school staff.

In her office, the Headmistress reviewed lesson plans and rotas for the forthcoming term, and all over the castle an army of Hogwarts House Elves made up beds, stocked kitchens and cleaned common rooms and classrooms. The whole building buzzed with an air of excitement.

Outside Hermione's potions lab on the fourth floor Hermione and Loki were putting away the huge quantity of potions ingredients that had arrived the previous week. Hermione continued to fret constantly over the situation with Loki's magic, and all that it implied, but was determined that, if she and Loki were to only have a short time together, they would make the most of every moment.

It was hardly surprising then, that no-one noticed when a streak of multi-coloured light shot out of a cloudless blue sky, and made landfall immediately outside the school gates...

Back in the school, a few moments later, Professor McGonagall eyed the now familiar raven perched on her desk, before opening the small square of parchment in front of her. Standing up, she called for a house elf.

"We have visitors at the gate, please escort them directly to this office." Standing up, she hurriedly vanished the mass of paperwork on her desk, and straightened her hair and hat. A matter of minutes later Thor, and a tall, older, fair haired woman stood before her. Thor looked relaxed and happy, the woman on the other hand was almost vibrating with anxiety, and looked as though she might cry at any moment.

Professor McGonagall had never met her, but it didn't require divination to work out who she was. The elderly witch bowed her head respectfully. "Queen Frigga of Asgard I believe, welcome to Hogwarts your Highness."

Frigga clearly only had one thing on her mind.

"Can I see my son?"

The Headmistress' face softened and she smiled warmly. "Let me take you. I believe he is on the fourth floor at the moment."

Turning to Thor she indicated that he should accompany them. He held up his hands. "Madam, I believe this moment needs to be between my brother and my mother. If you have no objection I will wait for them here - or better still in the garden".

Professor McGonagall nodded her acquiescence, and the two women left the room.

As they walked through the corridor, Frigga seemed to relax a little. "I'm sorry, you must think me very rude. I am aware that this castle has given my son sanctuary, when many Midgardians would not, and I cannot sufficiently express my gratitude. It is just that – well – I haven't seen my son for some time." She stopped for a moment, her face sorrowful. "In fact, it seems to me that I have not truly seen my son for many long centuries." She wrung her hands nervously. "From the moment I heard that he was still alive I have wanted nothing more than to come to see him, but Thor persuaded me that I was needed on Asgard. There has been a great deal to do..." Her voice tailed off nervously.

The two women made their way silently up the great staircase. Stepping onto the fourth floor corridor they could hear the sound of voices and laughter coming from around the corner. Very quietly, the Queen and the Headmistress peered around the corner.

The door of the potions store was open, and a tall, slender, black haired young man wearing a slightly grubby tee shirt and jeans was passing boxes to someone within. The person in the store was not visible, but the voice was decidedly feminine.

"Are you sure there isn't another box of Eye of Newt?"

"No – like I said, they only sent two instead of three" At the sound of his voice, the Queen drew in a quick, wondering breath of recognition - with his back to them, and dressed as a Midgardian, she had not immediately recognised her son.

A huff of annoyance came from the potions store. "OK, what about Fairy wings?".

Loki leaned against the wall and smirked. "Not sure what I'm looking for, why don't you come out and show me?"

A young woman emerged from the store. Her brown curly hair was braided down her back and there was a smudge of dirt on her forehead. She was dressed in jeans and what looked like a man's shirt. Loki leaned down to brush the smudge off, before picking her straight off her feet, and lifting her onto a nearby windowsill, bringing her almost to his eye level. She squealed in protest, but couldn't stop laughing.

"Loki! What are you doing you Neanderthal? Put me d..." Frigga watched, stunned, as the rest of her words were cut off by her son's kiss. Long moments later, they heard her voice again, but this time there was a definite softness and huskiness to her tone that spoke volumes as to their relationship. "Loki - we need to get these boxes put away."

The tone of his response left absolutely no doubt as to his intentions. "Later". Laughing, Loki scooped a protesting Hermione back up into his arms, and strode down the corridor - only to stop suddenly when confronted by the Headmistress. Hermione, in his arms, giggling, her head in his shoulder, took a little longer to catch on.

"Professor McGonagall" Loki had the good grace to look abashed.

The Professor smiled. "There is no need to look so uncomfortable, although I trust that you will keep this kind of thing more private once the students return. Do you think I might borrow Professor Granger for a moment please?"

A blushing Hermione slipped from his arms, dropping a brief kiss on his nose on the way. "Of course Professor". She rested her hand possessively on his chest. "Sweetheart, would you mind putting some more boxes away for me?"

Loki looked apprehensively at the small dark room.

"If you don't mind, I'll get them into order out here and we'll put them away when you get back."

Hermione gave a small, understanding nod before turning back to the Professor, who led her away, and around the corner, Hermione looked curiously at the tall pale woman with the warm blue eyes as she passed, but forbore to comment.

As they reached the stairwell, they heard a crash. Hermione winced and went to turn back until the Headmistress stopped her.

Loki's voice from down the corridor, was uncertain, and suddenly very, very young. "Mother?"

The sound of footsteps, coming together, then Frigga's voice, cracked with emotion. "Loki, my darling... Loki, alskling, no, do not cry..."

Hermione and the Professor crept quietly down the staircase.


	20. Chapter 20

Loki and Frigga emerged from the front door of the castle about half an hour later, to find the Headmistress, Hermione and Thor seated at a table under one of the trees. Seeing them, both a little tear stained, Hermione left the table and flew across the lawn into Loki's arms. Frigga watched them, a wondering smile on her face. Setting Hermione back on her feet, Loki made the formal introductions to his mother. Then walking over to the table arm still around Hermione, Loki gripped Thor's arm a moment meeting his eyes in silent greeting. Professor McGonagall rose, leaving them for a while to arrange some refreshment.

The small group sat peacefully under the tree, enjoying the warm weather. They made a strange group Hermione thought with a smile. Thor and his mother in all their Asgardian finery and she and Loki in their very casual (and dusty) jeans. Relaxing in the sunshine, Hermione leaning comfortably against his side, Loki was nonetheless aware that his mother was clearly still a little agitated, had something more on her mind.

Leaning towards her he took her hand. "What is it mother... ?"

Frigga's voice was suddenly uncertain. "Loki, I understand from Thor that you were seriously injured when he found you... in that... place." she paused for a moment, the need to know warring with her fear. "Can I see what... what he did to you?"

Loki looked suddenly, deeply uncomfortable. But he would not deny his mother this if it would help her. Not now. Standing, he reached reluctantly over his head, and pulled his tee shirt off. Frigga touched his arm briefly, then walked around to his back. Her gasp of horror was far too audible.

Hermione saw the distress in Loki's face. She was very familiar with the massive scarring on his back - it had never, ever worried her. But it clearly brought back bad memories for him. Moving close to him, she rested her face against his arm, the fingers of one hand tangling with his, while the other reached out across his body, to hook into the belt loop of his jeans. Her thumb drew small comforting circles on the bare skin of his hip. Loki looked down into her eyes, full of love for him, and relaxed slightly.

Frigga and Thor also saw that tender little moment and their smiles warmed further.

Giving Frigga a moment to compose herself, while Loki thankfully pulled his shirt back on, Thor tried to lighten the moment. "Loki, it is good to see you so well Brother. You have healed completely"

"No" Hermione did not look up from Loki's shoulder, but her voice was flat and angry. Thor looked perplexed.

"When Loki first came here, the skin was ripped from his wrists by his shackles, he had four broken ribs, and a fractured cheekbone from at least one - probably multiple, severe beatings. He also had deep bruising from the same beatings. The long period of time chained resulted in torn muscles in his chest and shoulders. All these have healed.

The worst injuries were the deep acid burns to his back. More than half of the skin was removed, particularly around the waist. You've seen the scarring that has resulted - but yes. This _is_ healed.

After that, the shock, and the venom caused a serious fever that I was unable to break, because I had no understanding of the implication of his being a Frost Giant. If it weren't for a magical portrait of Salazar Slytherin, I truly think I would have lost him at that point.

But the nightmares, the claustrophobia, the panic attacks. Not to mention the consequences of your Father's OUTSTANDING parenting techniques, and being broken and mind fucked by Thanos. Those we're still working on, and will be for a while I think."

Loki's hand in hers, she turned slowly around to face Thor, her magic pulsing visibly. Unsurprisingly, Thor took a step backwards, as the air around her shimmered red and gold with barely restrained power.

"Where is your father? Where is the King," her lip curled, her voice dripping scorn "of Asgard? Or doesn't he have the guts to come here and face what he did? What kind of a man sentences his son. HIS SON to be slowly dissolved in acid over the course of the next decade or two.

Oh, no, I forgot. Just a year.

Because no sooner had Loki recovered from the physical damage inflicted on him than we discovered a whole new set of problems. Because when he physically RIPPED his magic out of Every. Single. Cell. in Loki's body, YOUR FATHER signed his death warrant. One year, maximum, before everything just grinds to a halt..." She was shaking now, as weeks of control finally unraveled.

"One year..."

She had never ever lost control of her magic like this. Over on the terrace, one of the stone statues was vibrating, finally cracking from top to bottom, and three of the smaller windows in the castle broke. Unafraid, Loki wrapped his arms around Hermione, stroking the length of her back, murmuring nonsense into her hair. He was only too aware of the clock ticking down for him, but he was too absorbed in the present to worry about a theoretical future. Hermione clung to him, utterly overwhelmed.

"Professor Granger. Hermione" Thor's deep voice broke through the swirling storm of power.

"I am now the King of Asgard".

And reaching into the bag slung over his shoulder, Thor produced a globe, a crystal globe, filled with a pulsing, emerald green energy that swirled restlessly in his hand. Above her head, Hermione heard Loki's swift, joyous intake of breath.

His magic.

For a moment, no-one moved.

Then Loki tilted Hermione's chin up, smoothing back her hair before kissing her briefly, achingly tender. "Step back a little sweetheart, I'm not sure how this is going to go..."

As Hermione stepped reluctantly away from him, Loki took the globe from his brother. He cradled it in his hands in wonder.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then there was a sharp crack. And the globe shattered.

Hermione watched in terrified fascination, as Loki was wrenched off the ground, surrounded by a swirling green vortex of energy.

The air roared in her ears, the pressure nearly knocking her off her feet. Loki threw back his head and screamed.

Every single window in the front of the castle shattered simultaneously.

Loki dropped bonelessly, to the floor in a heap for a long moment before, standing slowly. As the last of the green energy dissipated, it left him dressed from head to toe in black and silver leather, trimmed with green and gold. A green cape hung from his shoulders, brushing the grass behind him.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Her eyes widened. He looked different, alien, magnificent. Like a Prince.

"So, err, this is how you usually look?"

Loki shrugged. "Most of the time"

Hermione took a breath, looking at his feet. She was a witch, she dealt with the impossible every day.

But this?

Then she saw his eyes. Loki's eyes. A little afraid, a little uncomfortable. But still him.

Hugging him in all this leather and metal wasn't quite as comfortable as usual, but she could live with that. Safely back in his arms, she tilted her face up to smile at him.

And she stopped. Her eyebrows rose.

"Loki? What on earth are you wearing on your head?" His ceremonial headgear must have been the last thing to materialise.

Behind her she heard Thor's bellow of laughter, clearly this was an old joke. "I told you, you look like a cow!"

Loki rolled his eyeballs, muttering something about wearing a chicken on his head. Then he took the great horned helmet off, and looked at it considering. He had worn this for Thor's aborted coronation.

In Stuttgart.

In New York.

It was flamboyant, ostentatious – trying far too hard.

He wasn't that person any more.

His eyebrows drew together in concentration. The horns retreated, leaving a plain gold and silver helmet. For good measure, he added just a touch of green and black enamel decoration.

Vanishing the helmet with a snap of his fingers, he shrugged wryly. "They were never really me anyway."

"What on EARTH has happened here?" Professor McGonagall, emerging from the main door, two house elves scurrying behind her, surveyed the devastation incredulously. Loki and Hermione had the grace to look abashed. With a smile of sheer pleasure, Loki closed his eyes, raising his hand.

A wash of pure magic flowed over the front of the building. Every broken window was instantly replaced and the two pieces of the statue broken by Hermione obligingly leaped back together. For good measure he fixed four pieces of broken guttering, and six missing roof slates while he was there...

Then he conjured a huge bouquet of flowers for the Head – just for the joy of it. The look of delight on her face, as she saw his returned magic, was truly wonderful.

Returning to the table, Loki, Hermione and the Headmistress listened as Thor finally told them of the recent happenings in Asgard. Very soon after being escorted to his chambers, Odin had once more fallen into the Odinsleep, and at present there was no sign that he would ever wake again. In the meantime he was being cared for, but carefully guarded.

Thor reported with grim satisfaction that the guards that had abused Loki on his journey to The Cave, had been advised to disappear by sunset that same day, or, never live to see another sunset. They had taken him at his word, and neither hide not hair of any of them had been seen since.

He should, Loki thought, be at peace with the world. Now that Thor had been crowned and acknowledged King and All Father of Asgard, his position secured, and Odin was safely under guard, he could stop looking over his shoulder all the time. He had his magic back. There was now no reason why he couldn't return to Asgard.

He could go home.

So why, suddenly, did he feel so trapped? The metal and leather he had worn his whole adult life was suddenly suffocating, and he could feel the now familiar trickle of panic running down his spine.

Turning to Hermione, trying to calm his breathing, he took her face in his hands. "I need to be quiet for a while, do you mind?"

Understanding, Hermione nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?" He shook his head.

With a nod to Thor, and a kiss to his mother, Loki strode away across the lawn and out of sight before he started to shake….


	21. Chapter 21

Loki's abrupt departure had worried his mother and brother, but experience, had taught Hermione to be pragmatic.

"He's been through a lot this afternoon – all good, but a lot of emotion nonetheless. He'll be alright, he just needs to be quiet, to process everything."

Frigga took her hand. "Professor Granger – may I call you Hermione? My son has been through so much, both physically and mentally, and I cannot begin to tell you the change I have seen in him today. I realise from what you said earlier, and his behaviour just now, that he has a long way to go still. But the difference now, is that he is showing his feelings - for the first time that I can remember.

My son is only 1046 years old – still a very young man by Asgardian standards. As a child he was affectionate and open. He and Thor were the closest of friends. But as he grew, I watched them change from friends to rivals, and gradually the barriers came down. Over the centuries that followed every emotion and vulnerability was hidden behind a mask. A perfect beautiful royal mask. Cold, bitingly intelligent and sarcastic. As I said to Professor McGonagall earlier, I have not truly seen my son for many long centuries. I had not heard a true honest laugh from him in even longer – before today.

Then I saw him with you, putting your supplies away. He was a young man again. Not a Prince of Asgard, not a warrior or a mage. A young man, happy and confident in his own skin, spending time - with the woman he loves."

Frigga stopped, overcome. Unable to continue.

After a moment of silence, Professor McGonagall leaned forward. "I was not aware of Loki's ongoing issues. Does he have these moments of panic often?"

"He has nightmares two or three times a week on average. Sometimes I can coax him out of them without waking him up, but not always. He's had two panic attacks to date. The first was on the Underground in London, the second last week was more serious. We had to go down to the dock to receive the potion supplies." She looked up at Thor and Frigga. "Traditionally the first year students travel to the castle by boat when they arrive for the first time. They disembark at an underground dock. It's also where any deliveries that can't arrive by magic tend to come in. Some of my potions ingredients are highly explosive, and may be unstable when exposed to the forces of magical transportation.

We walked down through the corridors onto the dock. By the time we got there he was green, shaking and unable to breath. I couldn't talk him out of this one. I had to call Kreacher to transport us out of there." She shook her head "I should never have taken him down there. I should have known what would happen."

"Why?" asked Frigga. Having been in The Cave himself, Thor had already put two and two together.

"Because the dock is in a cave. To make matters worse, there is a small stream that runs through the cave and into the lake." Frigga looked puzzled, not understanding the significance.

Loki was chained alone in The Cave for almost a week. In the dark. Unable to see when the next drop of venom would fall. During this time, the only sounds he would have heard were his own voice, and the sound of a stream just outside."

Frigga's face was blanched. She had been aware of The Cave – the ultimate punishment, reserved for the worst of Asgardian traitors, but to truly understand what her youngest son had gone through in there was almost too much for her to bear.

"As you saw this afternoon, he can't even walk into my potions store. It's a good thing that the rooms in Hogwarts are large or we could have real problems.

I have been in touch with Saint Mungo's Hospital – that's the main magical hospital in London. There is a healer there that specialises in mind trauma – he helped a number of my friends after the Battle of Hogwarts, ten years ago. I had a couple of sessions with him myself. Don't mention it to Loki though plese, I have a feeling he may still be resistant to the idea. I will talk to him when he has a little less on his mind."

Thor frowned. "A healer of the mind. We do not have such things on Asgard."

Frigga looked thoughtful. "Perhaps if we did, much of this could have been averted. On Asgard many still regard such troubles as a sign of weakness. Clearly there are many things that Asgard can learn from Midgard on these matters."

Thor rose slowly. "Hermione, I believe that my brother and I have things that we need to discuss, and I need to reassure myself that he is now well. Do you have any idea where he may have gone?"

Hermione smiled. "Follow the path down to the lake. When you get to the lake, bear left. I would expect that you will find him under the big oak tree...

And Thor..."

The King of Asgard stopped and looked back.

"DON'T upset him or you will answer to me!"

Thor's face paled slightly, and he made a swift exit. King he may be, but Hermione was like his mother, and had the capacity to terrify him...


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's note. Wow. The last two chapters. Many thanks to everyone that has continued to support this story - I love you all. Thanks also to Ms Kitty Black for her endless patience, even in the face of rookie writer's neurosis._

 _As always I don't have any claim on any of the characters, and do this just for the fun of it._

 _Loki's quotation in the Chapter is from Shakespeare's The Tempest..._

* * *

As Hermione had expected, Thor found Loki, seated on the grass, his back to the great oak tree. His eyes were on the Black Lake before him, but his mind was clearly realms away. He did not look around as Thor approached, yet showed no surprise at his appearance.

"Take a seat"

Thor lowered himself to the grass beside Loki. He noticed that his brother had once again shed his Asgardian armour in favour of his Midgardian clothing, a light grey jumper and black jeans for the summer was drawing to its end, and the evening was cool. Thor noticed with a pang, that even now, Loki was far more relaxed than he had ever been at home. Nonetheless, his younger brother's face was grave and distant.

"Tell me brother"

"I'm not your..." Loki broke off suddenly, meeting Thor's eyes with a wry smile. "Old habits die hard – brother – even the bad ones." He turned back to his study of the lake and the castle beyond. From here he could just see the window of the rooms he now considered theirs. He wondered whether Hermione was watching somewhere.

"I have learned from Hermione that which I should have realised a long time ago. That what is important are the ties of love – not blood. I don't know whether Father and I can ever move past everything that is behind us, but I have come to terms with the things that I did, the damage and the pain I caused, the lives I took. I shall grieve for them for the rest of my days.

I have tried so many times to explain it – even to myself. How I became that – creature. For many years I thought it to be almost another being, something within me.

' _This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine'._

Perhaps I was born with it, perhaps it was born in me as I lay alone on the ice, waiting to die. All I know is that it was there. It fed on my frustration, that nothing I did ever seemed to be enough to make our father proud of me as he was of you; on the humiliation of being seen as effeminate, the weakling, forever in your great shadow. I despised myself for continuing to try, for still caring what others thought of me."

He paused for a second, closing his eyes, seeking calm. "Hermione described it perfectly – like wearing your shoes on the wrong feet. I tried so hard, but - I just didn't fit into that which I knew I ought to be. And I'm still not certain whether _knowing_ what I was would have made things better or worse. I would have understood that the feeling of not fitting in was due to my being Jotun not Asgardian, but would it have helped going through my childhood terrified that someone would find out my secret. So this darkness, this rage grew until it poisoned everything that I loved - until choosing to fall into the void seemed like the obvious solution

So when Thanos captured me, I made it so easy for him. All he had to do was take everything that was already within me, and manipulate it to his own ends. By the time I was able to think for myself again, peeling myself out of Stark's floor. I would have done anything. I just wanted it all to be over.

He looked at the beauty around him and smiled. "Hermione calls this place my confessional. It's where I first laid all of my stupidity, arrogance and misdeeds out before her, and now it is where I come to think."

"When you took me back to Asgard in chains, I had had enough – I was truly ready to die for what I had done, would even have welcomed it. But I still cannot believe that Odin hated me that much. That he would truly condemn me to such suffering. Between his words and those of my guards, they had me believing that you and mother knew my fate, but that you had lost patience with me. That you no longer cared what became of me."

Loki let out a long breath. "I should have known better. Poor mother, she never gives up on me does she – neither do you"

Thor smiled broadly, his hand on Loki's shoulder. "It appears that we are no longer the only ones brother. This lady of yours will defend you like a lioness. It is one of the reasons that Mother will love her."

Loki smiled. "I remember, not long after you brought me here, it may even have been the same night, that I had a nightmare. I dreamed that I was back in the cave, and that you had not found me. Then through the pain and the despair, I felt a cool gentle hand and heard a soft voice. I opened my eyes and there was this beautiful young woman, surrounded by light. She had the kindest eyes I had ever seen. I suppose it was a combination of the candlelight and my sickness, but it seemed that the darkness receded just a little. It has been diminishing ever since, but I still fear that I will carry it with me lifelong..."

Loki was silent for a moment, pondering the changes of the last months, and their implications.

"...Thor - I don't think I'm ready to go back."

For once, his brother was quiet, waiting for him to continue. Loki dropped his head onto his knees for a moment, then looked up, with wrenching candour. "I'm afraid to go back. There are too many bad memories – I don't want to go back to what I was. Sitting back there, in my armour, knowing that there was no reason for me not to go back to Asgard, I couldn't breathe. Even in the garden, I could feel the walls closing in."

Thor got to his feet and held out his hand, hauling Loki up behind him. He noticed that his brother was a little heavier than he remembered, had lost that drawn out, wasted look. Even his skin was less pale, he had clearly spent a great deal of the summer out of doors, and the lightly tanned skin and the smattering of freckles across his nose reminded Thor irresistibly of the young man Loki had been before all this began. Perhaps it was the memory of this that brought his hand to the back of his brother's neck, in an age old gesture of love and support.

"Loki, there are things that I should have said and done in the past which I did not – and things that I said and did which were inexcusable. I have not always been the brother you deserved. I was arrogant, self absorbed, I never ever valued you as I should.

When we went to Jotenheim on that foolish mission, I told you, before all, that you should know your place. You were in your place, at my right hand, watching my back and trying to extract me from the consequences of my own arrogance and stupidity. I did not truly realise what I had lost until I saw you fall from the bridge, believed you lost forever." Thor took a moment, calming himself "It was as though half of me had been ripped away; and all those things which I so desperately needed to say to you – I had forever lost the chance to tell you. I would happily have traded the throne, Mjolnir, my immortality for the chance to have things back as they had once been.

I have two things that I need to give you. You may wish to give them to your lady when the time is right, but that is your decision, and hers, and no-one else's." From the bag that had contained Loki's magic, Thor produced a small carved wooden box. "Before you open it though, there is something else that I need to ask you – as your brother – and as King of Asgard."

Box in hand, Loki nodded.

"Brother it seems to me, that Father was wrong in saying that only one of us could rule Asgard. Only one may wear the crown that is true, but it appears to my mind that without you at my side, I am only half the king that Asgard needs. When you are ready to return to us – in your own time, with or without your lady – I would like you to take your place at my right hand – as a mage, and as my Lord Chancellor."

Loki smiled – "Well someone has to add the brains to your brawn I suppose" He thought for a moment. "Hermione has told me of one of the greatest of the legends of this land, of a great king, Arthur and the magician who was both his councillor and friend." He held out his arm to Thor. "I cannot tell you when it will be brother, but I promise, that when the time is right, I will return to Asgard, to take my place at your side." Thor clasped his arm in Asgardian fashion, pulling him into a hug.

"And now we should return to the castle where your lady, and our lady mother await us. I believe they are still drinking tea with the Headmistress"

Loki smiled. "Go ahead of me brother, I will be with you in a moment."

* * *

 _Apology for the slightly clunky ending. This was originally one chapter, but I decided that I had more that I needed to say in the second half, so I had to split it in two. M x_


	23. Chapter 23

_Final chapter - the quote from the poem, which is also the source of the title for this story is from "i carry your heart with me" by ee cummings._

 _I hope to post the first chapter of the sequel "Till Death Us Did Part", which will take place almost two years after the end of this chapter._

 _Thank you to all those that continue to support this story - I love you all. If you haven't had a chance to review, that's fine, but it would be great to know what you think now that the story is complete._

* * *

Watching his brother stride away, Loki looked around, savouring the peace of this lovely spot. Very soon the students would return, and he would no longer have the castle – or Hermione to himself. Strangely the thought no longer worried him. He had promised to assist in some of Hermione's classes, and now, with his powers back, he would finally be able to interact with the rest of the school community without arousing curiosity, although for now, he would continue to use his pseudonym. He had no wish for the school, or Hermione to suffer the fallout from his past crimes.

In addition, he had much to learn about the magical culture of Hermione's world – something he looked forward to greatly.

He turned the box in his hands, he had momentarily forgotten its presence. It was a lovely thing, of fine dark wood, obviously made by a master craftsman. Although the sides had been richly carved, the top had been left blank, with a silver inset, clearly intended for an inscription, a name or a message to a loved one. Pressing the catch to release the lid, he drew in a swift, pleased breath. As Thor had said the box contained two items. The first was a ring, which he knew to have belonged to his maternal grandmother. A beautiful elegant design, with twists of gold framing a magnificent emerald. The ends of each twist was finished with a smaller ruby. The ring was so perfect, so Hermione that it took his breath away.

The second item in the box was a perfect, gold fleshed apple.

Thor was giving them what Odin would never have permitted to either of his sons. He was giving them a choice. When you are ready, his brother was saying, if she is willing, give her the ring, make her your wife, and spend eternity by her side. It was, thought Loki, a little soon for that question, although in his heart, he believed – hoped that he knew what the answer would be.

Closing the box, he pondered the silver inset for a moment. Remembering a poem that Hermione had read to him in the library. It had not been like any of the traditional love poetry of this realm, but a line of it had remained in his head. Frowning slightly, Loki focused his magic:

 _...and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart  
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)_

As he watched, the quotation appeared, in graceful script, across the silver. Pleased with the results, Loki snapped his fingers, vanishing the box keeping it safe until the time came.

Something flickered at the edge of his awareness. He raised his head, listening, questing subtly with his power. He smiled.

"You can come out now Hermione"

Looking a little sheepish, she emerged from a cluster of trees. "I was a little concerned as to how that conversation was going to go..."

Loki drew her against him, resting his cheek on her hair. "Were you here to back me up, or to rescue Thor?"

She chuckled "I'm not sure. Both I think. It just struck me that maybe you would need me afterwards." She noted that the box had vanished, but resisted the urge to question him. She trusted now, that he would tell her when the time was right.

"We really should go back - your mother will be wanting to see you before they return to Asgard, but before we do, there is something very important that you need to do for me now that you have your magic back"

He watched her, suddenly very still. Suspecting – fearing what was coming next. This was always going to come up once he had his magic back.

She looked up, cradling his face in her hands, holding his eyes with hers.

"Show me"

He stepped back from her, shaking his head, his eyes wide - almost feral "No."

She caught his hands, pulling him close, feeling his panic building – trying to project love and trust and certainty. "Loki, breathe. Sweetheart. You NEED to do this. You have to get past the conviction that I am going to run screaming from you in this form." Drawing his lips down to hers she kissed him, gently. "You have been so brave, have shown me so much already. Do you trust me?"

He was tense with misery, refusing to meet her eyes, but he whispered "Yes – but I can't bear the thought of losing you. Or of losing myself if that happens. Hermione, I don't think you understand. I am a monster in that form. I can't... please don't ask this of me"

Hermione rested her head against his chest for a moment, fighting to control the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, feeling his heart's panicked pounding beneath her cheek. Gathering herself together, she once again took his face between her hands, knowing that this could turn into a fully fledged panic attack if she didn't get him to focus. "Loki – look at me – please. Firstly, you are not and never will be a monster. Believe me, I've seen monsters, and they don't generally look any different to anyone else. You have to understand – I love you, I will always love YOU. Not your face or your body or your skin or your hair, although those are all beautiful, but YOU.

Now please, show me..."

He took a step back from her and closed his eyes, fists clenched, fighting for calm. Before Hermione's eyes, a wash of blue flooded his skin which was now adorned with raised lines and swirls.

His eyes opened and hers widened. Red, ok, that was startling, but when she looked again, all she could see looking at her from those red eyes was the same barely restrained panic that had been there when they had been emerald green.

It was still Loki. And he was still beautiful – different, but still beautiful. The hair was the same, the height, build and bone structure were all the same, and his blue skin was stunning. Hermione raised her head, looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"You're still you Loki, and you're still beautiful". The fear in his eyes was slowly ebbing, being replaced by confusion. She reached out to touch his hands and he flinched terrified of hurting her. His skin was cold, and hers tingled slightly in response, but there was no pain, no burning sensation. The objective, intellectual part of her brain reasoned that the frostbite ability was probably triggered as an adrenaline response during battle. Reaching up to him, she drew him down into a kiss, savouring the strange, and surprisingly erotic sensation of his chilled skin against hers. As her tongue slid past his lips she gasped softly into his mouth – he leapt back as though stung.

"I hurt you!" The fear was returning.

Hermione was having no more of this, drawing him back down to her kiss. As their lips finally parted, she kept him there, their lips barely touching "Loki?"

Whispered "Yes?"

"Um - Your tongue is cold"

"Yes?"

She looked up at him – and the smile on her face was positively sinful. She bit her lip considering.

"That might be fun. Is ALL of you this cold?"

She ran a single finger over the curved markings on his forehead, raising her eyebrows when he gasped at the sudden increased sensation. Eyebrows drawing together, she tried another on his forearm with the same effect. She raised her eyes, her smile was pure wanton lust.

He had clearly caught onto her train of thought, because he was blushing. Under his blue skin the effect was startling.

"Do you have these - everywhere?"

He looked at her, still not quite daring to believe that she would take this so calmly. "Yes?"

"Hmm, that will certainly add a different dimension." She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him, warm passionate, and full of the promise of wonderful things to come. "What do you say we try this out when everyone has gone home?"

The look on his face was a picture. "You would want me to... like this?"

She sighed, for someone so incredibly smart, he could be blindingly obtuse when he chose to be. "Sweetheart, I want you in any form that you care to choose – within reason"

The blue was fading. "What do you mean within reason?" They were starting to walk back towards the castle now, arms wrapped around each other.

"Well I'm not sure about furry – and anything with more than two legs and two arms might be a problem. But there is one thing you must promise me"

"What's that"

"Don't EVER go ginger! I've had enough of ginger for one lifetime. "

Relaxed, laughing, happy, they returned to the castle. Going home...

The End..

* * *

 _There you are - I hope you enjoyed it._

 _In case anyone is tempted to take offence, I have absolutely NOTHING against people with ginger hair - after all, the delectable Mr Hiddleston (who describes himself as blonde) is pretty close to ginger, as is my other favourite actor Benedict Cumberbatch. Hermione's remark at the end is purely Weasley-related..._

 _See you in the sequel I hope... thank you for reading. MM xx_


	24. Chapter 24

Just a quick note to all those that followed and hopefully enjoyed this story, to let you know that the first two chapters of the sequel "Till Death Us Do Part" have now been posted.

 _When unexpected news is received from Asgard, the repercussions prompt Hermione and Loki to re-evaluate their relationship. What does it mean when "till death us do part" is measured not in years, or decades, but in millennia? When the world you know moves on, and those you love grow old and die, but you remain (virtually) unchanged? Do you follow your heart, or do you take the only sane and rational choice and walk away...?_

This story is already finished, just awaiting polishing. I will be posting on Wednesdays and weekends as before.

All feedback gratefully received...

MM x


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